a- 


N  KW  IPaWLCH  N  II. 


Cr^l^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/orationpoemchronOOnewi 


ORATION, 


POEM,  AND  CHRONICLES, 


DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 


i^Iinniu  flf  ^ppletra  ^ta^cinu, 


NEW  IPSWICH,  N.  H.,  SEPTEMBER  18,  1801  f 


TOGETHER  WITH  A 


REPORT  OF  THE  OTHER  EXERCISES  OF  THE  OCCASION. 


NEW  YORK: 

JOHN  N.  STEARNS,  No.  Ill  FULTON  STREET, 

1861. 


WYNKOOP,  HALLENBECK  &  THOMAS,  PRINTERS, 
No.  113  Fclton  Street,  New  York. 


CONTENTS 


].  owim : 


By  B.  B.  KINGSBURY,  Esq.,  of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  . 


11.  vom ; 


By  timothy  ferry.  Esq.,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  . 


HI.  CHRONICLES : 

By  WM.  a.  PRESTON,  EsQv,  of  New  Ipswich,  N.  H., 


PAGE 

.  0 


.  23 


41 


lY.  PROCEEDINGS  AND  EXERCISES  OF  THE  DAY : 


55 


ORATION. 


Fellow- Alumni  of  New  Ipswich  Appleton  Academy — Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

Assembled  to  renew  old  associations,  to  awaken  sleeping 
memories  of  the  many  pleasant  hours  we  have  spent  here, 
to  exchange  greetings  after  long  absence,  it  might  seem  a 
fitting  occasion  to  repeat  the  history  of  our  Alma  Mater, 
to  chronicle  her  early  struggles,  her  advancement,  and 
final,  almost  complete,  realization  of  long-cherished  hopes, 
in  the  erection  of  this  beautiful  structure ;  or,  bringing 
back  an  offering  to  the  shrine  where  we  caught  the  first 
aspirations  for  literary  culture,  felt  the  first  thirst  for 
knowledge,  we  may  wish  to  withdraw  from  the  din  of 
business  to  the  “  Groves  of  Academe,”  to  spend  in  its 
grateful  retirement  a  brief  time  in  the  discussion  of  some 
topic  connected  with  the  purpose  which  lias  brought  us 
together.  But  the  tremendous  crisis  through  which  we 
are  passing,  awakening  anxieties  for  the  safety  of  the 
government  and  the  cause  of  constitutional  liberty  through¬ 
out  the  world,  summons  every  man  to  look  within,  and 
examine  whether  any  fibre  in  the  mighty  lever  of  our 
political  system  is  unsound,  or  tough  and  stout ;  to  try 
whether  heroism  be  a  product  of  other  days  only. 

I  trust  I  shall  be  indulged  in  what  may  seem  a  departure 
from  the  spirit  which  should  characterize  a  literary  festival, 
if  I  say  something  of  the  heroic  element  of  the  present 
day.  Yet,  hardly  any  class  can  feel  a  profounder  interest 
in  the  issue  of  the  present  struggle,  than  those  who  have 
learned  to  look  upon  our  government  as  the  most  liberal 
patron  of  the  arts  and  sciences.  Here  we  have  truly  a 


G 


“  Eepublic  of  Letters.”  Here  all,  even  the  humblest, 
may  enter  into  competition  for  the  prizes.  They  must 
feel  a  corresponding  interest  in  all  that  insures  its  per¬ 
petuity,  whether  it  be  the  spirit  of  its  institutions,  or  the 
character  of  the  people  who  give  the  institutions  their 
bias. 

Hardly  a  word  has  so  many  exciting  associations  as  Hero. 
The  wonder-books  of  our  boyhood,  mythic  tales,  the  grand 
old  legends  of  Greece  and  Rome,  the  chronicles  of  the 
brave  deeds  of  Athens  and  Sparta,  formed  for  us  a  kind  of 
saints’  calendar.  The  stern,  unflinching  valor  of  the  old 
Roman,  the  resignation  of  the  Christian  martyr,  the  gal¬ 
lantry  of  knight  errant,  have  in  them  something  almost 
divine,  which  strongly  moves  the  nobler  part  of  our  nature. 
Even  in  this  matter-of-fact  age,  in  this  matter-of  fact  stage 
of  life,  we  still  have  our  hero-worship.  Attracted  by 
feats  of  moral  daring,  or  intellectual  strength,  or  military 
prowess,  we  gather  about  leaders,  and  call  ourselves  Jack- 
sonians  or  Jeffersonians ;  take  the  theories  of  our  heroes 
for  our  political  creed,  and  allow  no  imputation  of  their 
imperfections  ;  their  opinion,  in  the  last  resort,  crushes  the 
arguments  of  opponents. 

When  I  speak  here  of  Hero,  I  do  not  mean  that  man 
who,  in  ancient  mythology,  after  the  toils  of  this  life,  was 
transferred  to  a  seat  among  the  gods  ;  nor  the  Great  Man — 
the  representative  man — whose  life  forms  an  epoch  in  the 
world’s  history.  To  heroism  I  do  not  refer  simply  the 
reckless  daring  of  the  soldier,  or  the  fearless,  generous 
effort  of  the  fireman.  By  heroic  worth,  I  mean  all  that 
makes  a  man,  fearless  in  the  cause  of  truth,  justice,  and 
humanity,  bold  to  denounce  popular  sins,  self-sacrificing 
for  country,  battling  against  selfishness,  whether  in  Amself 
or  OTHER  self,  unflinching  in  the  hour  of  adversity.  The 


7 


requirements  for  the  modern  standard  are  quite  various. 
As  modern  civilization  is  an  accretion  of  former  civiliza¬ 
tions,  the  modern  hero  is  the  sum  and  substance  of  all  the 
best  qualities  of  by-gone  types.  We  cannot  spare  from 
his  character  the  smiting  energy  of  the  Greeks  in  the  hosts 
of  Agamemnon  ;  nay,  we  cannot  relinquish  in  his  composi¬ 
tion  the  stern  severity  of  the  elder  Brutus,  who  commanded 
the  death  of  his  son  for  treason  to  the  Republic.  The 
gentleness  of  brave  chivalry,  the  loyalty  to  truth  of  the 
victim  of  religious  persecution,  have  place  in  his  charac¬ 
ter.  While  the  essence  of  heroism  is  the  same,  its  phases 
are  quite  unlike.  Now  it  is  displayed  in  daring  for  chief, 
now  in  devotion  to  country,  now  in  crusade  against  infi¬ 
dels,  or  defense  of  innocence  and  weakness  against  bestial 
violence. 

It  is  seen  at  Runnymede,  in  the  struggles  of  Hollanders 
contending  for  religious  freedom  against  the  hierarchy  of 
Rome  ;  at  Valley  Forge — wherever  great  principles  are  put 
into  the  issue,  where  liberty  is  at  stake. 

While  now  we  do  not  care  to  see  any  more  “  Lion-hearts” 
waging  fierce  battle  against  Moslem  Turk,  we  rejoice  to 
behold  England  and  France  send  their  heroes  into  the  field, 
to  thrust  back  a  Russian  semi-barbarous  civilization,  threat¬ 
ening  to  absorb  the  Eastern  world.  Knight-errantry  may 
give  way  to  the  toil  of  stout-hearted  workers  at  the  prob¬ 
lem  of  human  ads^ancement ;  the  lay  of  troubadour  and 
minnesinger  to  “  songs  of  labor.” 

Democracy  is  the  spirit  which  should  interpenetrate 
the  modern  character.  Democracy  embraces  the  ideas  of 
free  thought,  free  speech  ;  the  development  and  improve¬ 
ment  of  the  individual  rather  than  an  interest.  The  pro¬ 
motion  of  the  people  rather  than  the  glorifying  of  a  caste, 
should  be  the  grand  motive  power  of  the  present  age. 


8 


The  belief  is  getting  fast  rooted  in  the  people  every¬ 
where,  that  bread  is  not  the  only  “  staff  of  life  that 
freedom  and  equality  are  necessary  to  the  full  development 
and  exercise  of  their  powers.  Despots,  even  in  the  calcu¬ 
lations  of  their  purblind  understandings,  begin  to  see  that 
a  free  man  is  a  third  more  a  man  than  a  slave.  The  Czar 
of  Russia  thinks  he  shall  largely  increase  his  effective 
force,  if  he  gives  back  to  serfs  rights  reserved  heretofore 
to  a  pampered  nobility.  Hungary  is  still  protesting 
against  the  withholding  of  her  just  privileges.  Italy 
rejoices  in  unity  under  a  constitutional  government.  The 
aristocracy  of  England,  apprehending  their  owm  near 
deposition,  are  eagerly  watching  for  a  refutation  of  liberal- 
ists,  who  point  to  our  system  as  one  wdiich  combines  the 
maximum  of  liberty  with  the  maximum  of  strength.  We 
feel  confident  that  the  mighty  power  of  the  nation  will 
disappoint  their  predictions  of  the  downfall  of  our  noble 
government. 

On  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  an  interest  long  indulged  in 
the  control  of  government  is  entering  on  its  last  crusade 
against  the  people.  The  Southern  aristocrats,  having  seen 
the  power  of  controlling  the  policy  of  government  pass 
from  their  hands,  refuse  submission  to  the  decision  of  a 
popular  vote,  and  anticipate  with  delight  a  relapse  into 
feudalism.  The  theory  of  Calhoun,  that  interests,  not  indi¬ 
viduals,  are  to  be  reckoned  in  making  up  the  majority, 
that  the  compound  of  conscience,  soul,  mind,  which  we 
call  man,  has  no  claim  to  recognition  comparable  to  bank, 
trading,  or  labor-owning  interests,  is  ripening  into  an 
abundant  crop  of  heresy,  that  threatens  to  subvert  all 
constitutional  government. 

But  men  are  not  confined  to  the  region  south  of  Mason 
and  Dixon’s  line,  who  substantially  ignore  this  principle. 


9 


Many  a  corporation  holds  the  conscience  of  its  employees 
in  close  keeping,  and  votes  through  them  almost  as  a  unit. 
The  man  who  takes  adv^antage  of  his  position  as  contractor 
for  labor,  to  force  his  dependent  hirelings  to  vote  his  ticlcet^ 
whether  by  gentle  insinuation  that  it  is  best  so  to  do,  or 
by  positive  threat  to  turn  him  away  in  case  of  refusal,  is 
violating  the  principle  of  democracy  as  much  as  if  he 
were  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  most  uncompromising  despot 
as  detective  police  officer.  This  is  not  universal,  nor  so 
wide-spread,  as  those  who  characterize  the  Northern 
laborers  as  “  mudsills  ”  would  have  us  suppose. 

But  we  must  take  care  not  to  hunt  down  a  suspicious 
opinion,  and  strive  to  suppress  it,  because  it  opposes  our 
immediate  interest,  whether  to  lessen  the  return  on  our 
investments  or  increase  our  taxes.  There  is  no  heroism  in 
this  ;  it  is  sheer  cowardice.  We  have,  or  ought  to  have,  a 
higher  interest  in  seeing  ourselves  surrounded  by  free¬ 
men  of  independent  thought  and  action.  Manly  think¬ 
ing  and  liberal  sentiment  are  more  important  for  the  pre¬ 
servation  of  our  institutions,  than  a  balance  of  exchange  in 
our  favor,  or  an  overflowing  treasury. 

The  class  of  men  who  think  that,  by  virtue  of  superior 
intellect,  or  wealth,  or  sometimes,  it  would  seem,  superior 
accident,  they  are  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and 
incidentally  to  provide  for  the  common  herd  of  mortals  by 
taking  upon  themselves  the  burden  of  government,  are 
centuries  behind  the  time.  They  should  have  lived  in  a 
rude  baronial  age,  when  the  feudal  system  was  in  full  vigor. 
They  might  then  have  shown  some  bravery,  some  heroism 
perhaps,  in  hunt  or  tournament,  and  have  seemed  to  their 

admirin"  defenders  real  heroes.  But  universal  intellisrence 

.  .  .  ♦ 

to-day  demands  some  other  qualities,  belonging  rather  to 
the  man,  than  such  loose  shreds  as  wealth,  or  birth-rights, 


10 


to  give  a  person  claim  to  any  worship.  The  theory  that 
capital  should  own  labor  is  an  absurd  dogma  of  pride, 
which  its  advocates  are  ready  to  realize  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet,  and  are  now  at  the  gates  of  the  capital,  flaunting 
treason  full  in  our  faces.  It  has  been  asserted,  that  here  in 
New  England  we  must  sometime  submit  to  a  division  into 
two  classes,  the  dominant  and  servient,  as  the  only  true 
basis  of  society,  with  many  of  the  privileges  of  the  Eng¬ 
lish  lord  on  one  side,  with  the  meanness  of  the  peasant  on 
the  other.  It  will  be  only  when  the  virtue  of  the  people 
is  gone,  when  they  have  forgotten  the  lessons  taught  them 
by  their  ancestors,  when  the  spirit  of  Puritan  Eoundhead 
has  departed  ;  when  the  common  school,  the  nursery  of 
true  democracy,  has  disappeared. 

A  faith  in  the  people,  a  real,  active  spirit  of  democracy, 
is,  then,  a  necessity,  if  we  would  preserve  our  institutions. 
In  this  trial-day  of  American  democracy,  there  is  need  of 
a  thorough  conviction  among  the  masses  that  they  have  a 
right  to  rule,  and  will  not  be  deprived  of  this  prerogative 
of  their  kingship  by  any  man  or  set  of  men.  Let  the 
people  learn  to  respect  and  trust  to  themselves,  not  con¬ 
fide  too  much  in  any  man’s  abilities,  no  matter  what  his 
claim  to  our  attention,  or  homage  even.  From  man-wor¬ 
shipers,  we  may  become  willing  tools  in  the  hands  of  some 
designing  intriguer.  Let  us  discard  the  notion  that  a 
monarchy  is  the  best  form  of  government.  It  is  the 
offspring  of  lazy  indifference,  or  an  unwillingness  to  assume 
the  responsibilities  of  the  republican  citizen. 

We  are  to  remember,  that  not  for  ourselves  alone  are  we 
trying  to  solve  the  problem  of  self-government.  Millions 
^of  freedom-seekers  in  Europe  are  looking  to  us  for  a  hope¬ 
ful  solution.  We  must,  then,  be  true  to  our  trust.  We 
must  not  for  a  moment  falter,  remembering  that  the  most 


11 


Stirling  heroism  is  that  which  does  not  bubble  up  at  the 
cannon’s  mouth,  or  bluster  in  the  street  brawl,  but  which 
adversity  cannot  crush. 

Every  reverse  which  we  have  yet  experienced  has  had 
its  countei*part  before,  and  it  is  an  indication  of  feeble 
patriotism  to  despond,  and  cry  peace  under  disasters  suffered 
in  the  noblest  cause  the  world  ever  saw. 

We  must  revere  republican  institutions,  so  far  as  they 
elevate  the  individual.  We  must  spurn  with  contempt 
the  doctrine  that  the  laborer  is  worth  less  than  the  labor- 
owner  by  three-fifths.  We  must  dignify  labor  by  all 
means  in  our  power.  Here,  in  New  England,  there  is  at 
present  little  danger  of  the  depreciation  of  labor.  We 
patronize  farm  and  mechanic  industry  by  those  yearly  fes¬ 
tivals,  agricultural  fairs.  There,  a  generous  emulation  is 
excited  ;  there,  labor  meets  its  reward  in  worthy  recogni¬ 
tion.  Labor,  too,  is  trained  by  system  ;  the  head  works 
with  the  hands ;  and  large  crops  are  not  the  result  of  acci¬ 
dent,  but  of  theory  and  practice  combined.  But  labor 
cheapens  :  the  Anglo-Saxon  may  become  Anglo-Norman  in 
his  tastes  and  feelings,  think  labor  fit  for  boors,  and  then 
pave  the  way  for  a  hireling  peasantry.  We  must  lessen  any 
such  tendency,  by  infusing  into  the  laboring  class  a  sense 
of  their  own  power  for  good  or  evil,  by  giving  good  wages, 
by  extending  to  them  privileges  of  cultivation  and  refine¬ 
ment,  by  opening  to  them  every  possible  avenue  to  ad¬ 
vancement  and  distinction.  We  have  a  safeguard  in  the 
cheapness  of  land.  We  have  a  still  greater  safeguard  in 
the  common  school.  There,  aristocracy  is  interpreted  the 
supremacy  of  the  best  in  brain,  in  muscle,  in  disposition. 
The  only  aristocracy  there  recognized,  is  that  of  best  bat¬ 
ter,  or  bowler,  or  runner  on  the  play-ground,  best  student 
in  the  school-room.  The  son  of  his  Honor,  or  his  Excel- 


12 


lency,  must  consent  to  sit  on  the  same  bench  with  the 
cobbler’s  son,  and  his  snobbish  mamma  may  be  mortified  to 
see  her  dear  boy  at  the  foot  of  a  class  of  which  her  servant’s 
son  is  the  head.  Thus,  through  life,  w'e  acknowledge  the 
supremacy  of  intellect,  the  excellence  of  refinement,  but 
tolerate  no  caste  founded  on  externals.  Man  must  earn  his 
title  to  distinction.  He  may,  by  the  toil  of  the  brain,  in¬ 
vent  labor-saving  machines,  to  exempt  him  from  the  toil 
of  his  hands  ;  but  he  must  not  resort  to  the  theory  of  the 
necessity  of  a  class  to  support  him  by  their  labor. 

Having  shown  the  spirit  which  should  prompt  the 
modern  hero,  let  us  discuss  the  question  of  his  training. 
It  may  be  asked.  Is  not  heroism  innate,  kindred  with 
genius  ?  If  it  is  synonymous  with  physical  courage,  it 
does  depend  on  temperament,  and  needs  only  the  presence 
of  danger  to  call  it  out.  But  if  it  means  greatness  of  soul, 
certainly  its  best  meaning,  it  may  consist  with  physical 
w^eakness.  If  it  is  fidelity  to  the  noblest  principles  of  our 
nature,  it  may  be  developed  and  strengthened  by  educa¬ 
tion,  by  keeping  before  the  mind  the  worth  of  these  princi¬ 
ples.  Hardly  a  school-boy  but  has  a  right  notion  of  heroic 
worth,  even  if  he  does  not  in  his  passion  act  upon  it.  If  we 
can  only  infuse  into  him  a  feeling  of  manliness,  the  hero¬ 
ism  will  appear  with  advancing  years.  Let  him  once 
thoroughly  despise  meanness  and  bullying,  and  his  stout¬ 
heartedness  is  assured. 

We  should  like  to  see  Tom  Browns  in  every  school — 
the  type  of  a  healthy,  hearty  young  hero,  whose  strength 
does  not  degenerate  into  overbearing  bravado ;  wdiose 
courage  is  tempered  with  gentleness  ;  whose  Christianity 
is  of  that  character  which  makes  itself  felt  in  the  defense 
of  the  weak,  rebuke  of  the  bully — an  element  in  the  play¬ 
ground  quite  as  much  as  in  the  church.  Any  training 


13 


which  will  give  good  muscle,  good  health,  good  heart, 
is  better  than  that  which  simply  loads  the  brain  or  disci¬ 
plines  the  understanding,  sharpens  the  intellect,  but  blinds 
the  better  feelings.  There  is  much  to  be  hoped  for  in  the 
present  increased  attention  to  physical  culture.  We  may 
reasonably  expect  to  see  in  another  generation  fewer  dys¬ 
pepsia-tainted  students,  more  right-hearted  and  right-headed 
men. 

An  important  agency  in  the  instruction  of  the  young 
man,  is  the  placing  of  models  before  him  for  his  imitation. 
They  are  beacon-lights  to  direct  his  aspirations  for  glory. 
They  should  be,  therefore,  of  the  purest  stamp.  They 
should  be  men,  not  one-sided,  but  of  a  rounded  finish,  with 
thorough  integrity,  moral  heroism,  sunnounting  the  whole ; 
men  like  Washington  or  Lafayette,  guided  by  principles, 
not  warped  by  ambition.  Some  men  seem  to  have  a  kind 
of  reverse  model.  They  look  more  to  the  starting-point 
than  the  goal.  They  measure  their  progress  by  their  ad¬ 
vance  from  badness^  rather  than  by  their  approach  towards 
goodness.  Let  the  young  man  keep  his  gaze  ahead.  He 
cannot  make  so  much  advancement,  if  he  is  continually 
looking  back,  to  see  how  far  in  the  rear  he  has  left  mean¬ 
ness.  Let  him  take  Herbert’s  advice  as  his  rule : 

“  Pitch  thy  behavior  low,  thy  projects  high  ; 

So  Shalt  thou  humble  and  magnanimous  be  : 

Sink  not  in  spirit ;  who  aimeth  at  the  sky, 

Shoots  higher  much  than  he  that  means  a  tree.” 

But  in  addition  to  physical  culture,  and  the  presentation 
of  right  models  for  his  imitation,  don’t  let  him  shallow  his 
intellect  by  smatterings  of  knowledge,  dabbling  in  showy 
learning,  or  browsing  in  dreamy  indolence  in  the  fields  of 
literature.  Sydney  Smith  says  we  must  dare  to  be  ignor¬ 
ant  ;  and  in  these  times,  when  every  school-boy  may  be- 


14 


come  an  “  Admirable  Crichton,”  and  surprise  his  elders  by 
the  exhibition  of  his  varied  knowledge,  there  is  a  kind 
of  moral  heroism  in  saying,  “  I  don’t  know,”  to  his  test- 
questions,  put  to  measure  the  attainments  of  the  genera¬ 
tion  before  him.  Every  thing  which  tends  to  superficiality 
of  learning,  goes  farther ;  it  weakens  the  sensibilities,  and 
lessens  the  attention  to  the  sober  business  of  life.  If  we 
have  a  serious  purpose  in  living,  an  end  to  attain,  we  must 
be  content  with  those  qualifications  which  help  us  to  reach 
it.  Not  that  the  Utilitarian  view  is  the  best :  a  view 
which  discards  the  classics,  and  banishes  from  the  curricu¬ 
lum  those  sciences  w^hich,  though  they  teach  the  scholar 
to  think,  do  not  immediately  concern  his  profession  in 
life.  But  as  true  manhood  is  worth  more  than  extensive 
and  varied  scholarship,  so  are  those  teachings,  whether  of 
self-discipline  or  regular  academical  training,  which  de¬ 
velop  this,  of  more  value  than  the  accomplishments  of  the 
fashionable  boarding-school,  where  too  often  the  art  most 
thoroughly  learned,  is  the  art  of  flirtation. 

Having  designated  the  spirit  which  should  actuate  the 
modern  hero,  and  his  training,  allow  me  to  say  something 
of  his  battle-field — something  of  the  foes  he  has  to  contend 
wuth. 

In  the  wonderful  activity  of  the  present  day,  the  conflict 
is  one  of  023inions.  Our  leaders  are  not  chieftains,  to 
gather  us  together  at  pibroch’s  call,  but  men  of  preeminent 
talent,  who  attract  us  by  their  novel  views,  broad  philan¬ 
thropy,  or  fervid  sentiments.  With  thought  excited  to  the 
utmost,  with  the  passion  of  controversy  aroused,  it  is  not 
strange  that  discussion  sometimes  runs  wild,  and  enthusiasm 
becomes  fanaticism.  The  discoveries  of  science  are  wuelded 
to  overthrow  long-cherished  beliefs.  The  Christian  has 
trembled,  lest  Kevelation — his  palladium — should  have  its 


15 


authority  diminished ;  has  uttered  anathemas  against  theo¬ 
rists  ;  classed  the  sciences  on  which  they  rely  among  those 
“  falsely  so  called shut  themselves  out  from  investiga¬ 
tion,  and  become  blind  sectaries.  When  spiritualists  gravely 
propose  to  revise  the  Scriptures^ by  manifestations  received 
from  the  spirit-world  through  table-tipping,  and  other 
spirit  arts ;  when  German  theology  threatens  to  materialize 
religion ;  when  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England,  in 
“  Essays,”  affirm  their  disbelief  in  what  they  have  taken 
as  their  creed  to  teach  and  to  preach,  no  wonder  that  there 
should  be  forebodings  of  a  disruption  of  religious  systems. 

But  let  the  depths  of  science  be  sounded;  let  every 
nook  and  corner  be  searched  for  proof  against  the  Christian 
religion.  There  shall  arise  champions  j  ust  as  eager  to  dis¬ 
cover  the  facts  which  tell  for  their  belief ;  that  not  only  the 
truth,  but  the  whole  truth,  may  be  known  ;  keen  to  discern 
fallacies,  that  nothing  hut  the  truth  may  stand. 

Never  for  a  moment  let  us  shrink  from  a  full,  fair  expo¬ 
sition  of  truth,  no  matter  what  its  object.  It  is  cowardly 
to  cringe  before  searching  inquiry.  It  indicates  feeble 
faith  and  lazy  intellect.  Investigation  gives  soundness  and 
substantiality  to  our  views ;  imparts  breadth  of  thought, 
and  liberalizes  our  judgment.  The  very  extravagance  of 
theorists,  if  they  are  men  in  real  earnest  in  their  belief, 
grubs  up  those  little  sectarian  conceits  which  belong  rather 
to  Phariseeism  than  true  Christianity. 

The  din  of  conflicting  opinions  is  not  confined  to  reli¬ 
gious  discussion.  The  arena  of  politics  is  more  turbulent, 
as  the  combatants  are  more  numerous  and  loud-voiced.  In 
this  country,  politics  are  at  least  a  thh'd  nature.  To  belong 
to  no  party,  is  to  be  an  alien  from  a  very  desirable  Goshen  ; 
to  take  no  interest  in  politics  argues  badly  for  a  man’s  pa¬ 
triotism  ;  to  know  nothing  of  political  caucuses,  and  the 


16 


machinery  of  a  political  campaign,  savors  strongly  of  stu¬ 
pidity.  Parties  are  a  necessity  in  a  country  like  ours. 
They  afford  a  healthy  stimulus  ;  they  prevent  stagnation  of 
public  spirit ;  they  kee^i  before  every  man  the  fact  of  his 
own  kingshi23.  But  if  party  outruns  its  legitimate  pur¬ 
pose,  and  becomes  an  instmment  to  further  the  designs  of 
ambitious  intriguers ;  if  its  machinery  comes  into  the 
hands  of  a  few  wire-pullers,  who,  by  their  artifices,  secure 
the  control  of  government,  it  becomes  a  dangerous  weapon. 
If  it,  moreover,  resists  inspection  of  its  policy,  cowers 
under  investigation,  resorfs  to  gag-laws  and  parliamentary 
tactics,  rather  than  to  hiir  discussion,  it  depreciates  tenfold 
our  noble  political  system.  \Ye  have  seen  it  recently  have 
recourse  to  the  argument  of  the  bully — nay,  to  war  and 
invasion,  to  compel,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  an  ac¬ 
knowledgment  of  its  rights  from  a  people  who  rejected 
offers  of  political  servitude.  It  may  be  said,  this  is  an  in-r 
terest  against  a  principle — Cotton  against  Eepublicanism, 
Aristocracy  against  Democracy.  But  it  is  an  evidence  of 
how  an  interest  will  adopt  a  party  as  a  convenient  means 
to  carry  out  its  selfish  dictates,  absorb  its  doctrines,  and 
present  them  assimilated  to  its  own  belief. 

Not  only  in  the  hands  of  leaders  does  it  become  an  ex¬ 
pedient  to  defeat  the  ends  of  government,  and  belie  the 
spirit  of  our  institutions :  it  proceeds  at  wholesale  some¬ 
times.  It  becomes  a  Briarean  tyrant.  The  terrorism  of  the 
mob  is  substituted  for  the  despotism  of  the  man.  Not  long 
ago,  in  Boston,  a  meeting  of  philanthropists  was  suppressed 
by  mob  force,  lest  it  should  endanger  the  Union  of  these 
States.  The  motive,  perhaps,  was  laudable  enough,  but  it 
was  a  most  cowardly  way  to  show  their  patiiotism ;  and 
these  disturbers  were  only  laughed  at  for  their  endeavors, 
by  the  men  who  were  plotting  the  destruction  of  the 
government. 


17 


If  we  would  not  submit  to  the  stern  rule  of  faction,  if 
we  would  not  have  introduced  into  our  Republic  the  savage 
tyrannies  spawned  by  the  French  Revolution,  we  must 
allow  all  minorities  their  rights  of  free  speech.  We  must 
dare  to  meet  discussion  everywhere,  on  all  topics  ;  we 
must  shrink  from  no  attempt  to  expose  our  fallacies,  or  re¬ 
fute  our  doctrines.  If  free  speech  be  suppressed,  or  re¬ 
stricted  to  the  use  of  majorities,  then  thought  is  stifled,  or 
works  in  dangerous  plots.  We  shall  see  a  people  struck 
with  moral  death  or  struggling  with  revolutionary  spasms. 
We  must  be  convinced,  from  the  history  of  the  past,  that 
the  harmonious  action  of  government  depends  on  the  com¬ 
plete  exercise  of  all  its  functions  ;  on  obedience  to  the 
spirit  as  well  as  the  letter  of  the  constitution. 

Party  assumes  to  be  the  keeper  of  the  conscience  of  each 
man  who  wears  its  livery.  It  threatens  to  ‘‘  read  out” 
whosoever  does  not  follow  its  dictates.  A  bolter  is  to  the 
strict  partisan  a  wretched  sinner.  As  he  cannot  be  put 
to  the  rack  like  a  heretic,  the  next  best  inquisitorial  expe¬ 
dient  is  resorted  to,  and  he  is  “rcaJ  instead  of  being 
burned  out  of  political  existence.  But  when  parties  are 
held  by  mere  names,  or  constitute  organizations  to  provide 
distribution  of  offices,  when  principle  is  gone  and  mere 
hull  is  left,  self-respect  demands  a  refusal  to  obey  its  be¬ 
hests.  We  cannot  expect,  as  new  questions  arise,  new 
policies  are  broached,  new  interpretations  of  constitutional 
powers  presented,  that  a  party  can  confine  within  its  creed 
these  new  elements,  so  as  to  make  it  acceptable  to  all 
its  members.  Sound  judgment  therefore  demands  a  recon¬ 
struction  or  remodelling  of  parties,  which  selfish,  partisan 
conservatives  so  much  dread. 

It  is  only  by  the  interchange  of  thought  that  the  world 
makes  progress.  No  evil  was  ever  lessened  by  any  at- 
2 


18 


tempt  to  prevent  the  deliberation  of  schemes  for  its  re¬ 
moval.  Silence  was  never  very  effectual  for  the  abolition  of 
gigantic  sins  and  promoting  reform.  If  Luther  had  fol¬ 
lowed  the  counsels  of  the  right-thinking  but  timid  Eras¬ 
mus,  fiery  indignation  at  the  promulgation  of  indulgences 
would  have  been  smothered  in  the  folds  of  expediency,  and 
religious  freedom  have  waited  still  longer  for  a  heroic 
champion. 

If  earnest  men  do*mistake,  their  labor  is  not  lost ;  they 
have  not  made  a  great  ado  about  nothing.  If  their  plans 
have  come  to  no  practical  result,  they  may  have  struck  out 
a  spark,  to  be  by  and  by  fanned  into  a  flame  to  warm  and 
encourage  humanity.  Many  a  splendid  structure  has  arisen 
on  the  ruins  of  unsuccessful  experiment ;  failure  has 
often  suggested  success ;  grand  enterprises  have  sprung 
from  humble  endeavor.  One  of  the  noblest  charities  of 
Paris  originated  in  the  efforts  of  a  poor  sewing  girl  to  help 
an  aged  female. 

Among  the  hindrances  to  the  growth  and  exhibition  of 
the  heroic  principle,  is  the  intensely  practical  tendency  of 
the  age.  Its  king  is  Money,  and  his  sway  is  almost  un¬ 
questioned.  It  is  heated  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  cool  in 
its  charities  ;  busy  in  moneyed  speculations,  indolent  in 
charitable  transactions.  The  warehouse  proceeds  rapidly 
to  completion,  the  church  or  hospital  waits  for  funds ;  it 
asks,  “  Will  it  pay  It  shrinks  behind  public  opinion  ;  it 
hardly  understands  the  nobler  enthusiasm  of  seeking  to 
reform  and,  elevate  humanity.  It  says  to  the  young  man, 
“  Don’t  get  excited ;  don’t  fill  your  brain  with  mad  schemes 
for  the  improvement  of  the  race  ;  don’t  be  a  Quixote,  tilt¬ 
ing  at  wind-mills,  the  laughing-stock  of  your  sensible  neigh¬ 
bors.”  If  Cervantes  produced  a  character  whose  adven¬ 
tures  have  amused  the  wmrld,  he  has  supplied  the  represen- 


19 


tative  of  the  practical  age  with  a  word  which  has  crushed 
many  a  chivalrous  exertion.  Has  a  young  man  started 
with  a  project  of  benevolence,  he  is  met  with  the  advice, 
“  Look  out  for  number  one,”  or  another  version,  “  Every 
man  for  himself,  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.”  He 
turns  to  self,  and  becomes  selfish,  like  the  rest  of  them. 

But  it  does  «ot  rest  with  simply  enfeebling  generous 
exertion.  It  eats  deep  into  the  core  of  morality.  It  sports 
with  justice;  it  laughs  at  tricks  of  party;  it  resorts  to 
chicanery,  and  calls  it  political  wisdom  ;  it  adopts  honesty 
when  it  is  the  best  policy. 

I  have  adverted  to  partisan  influence.  I  will  only  allude 
to  it  here,  to  express  the  hope  that  it  may  not  be  said  of  a 
mythic  golden  age  alone, 

“  Then  none  was  for  a  party, 

Then  all  were  for  the  State.” 

To  meet  all  the  obstacles  to  heroic  right  action  requires 
earnestness.  This  is  what  has  characterized  those  heroes, 
who  have  stamped  their  character  upon  the  age  in  which 
they  lived.  We  must  not  sport  with  life.  It  is  not  a  play¬ 
ground,  but  a  battle-field.  Let  us  not  be  surface  men, 
shams,  labeled  through  life  to  prevent  mistakes,  or  for 
convenient  designation  with  our  intended  profession. 
Many  a  young  man  runs  through  college  for  the  sake  of 
the  A,  B.  at  the  end,  which  he  flatters  himself  will  bring 
him  honors,  reputation,  wealth,  as  if  it  were  a  magic 
thing.  Socrates  should  be  standing  now  at  the  entrances 
of  our  academical  institutions,  as  of  old  he  stood  at  the 
'corners  of  the  streets  in  Athens,  to  show  them  the  worth¬ 
lessness  of  their  acquirements  ;  to  tell  them  what  lean, 
starveling  souls  they  have,  leaky  as  a  sieve ;  to  ask  them 
seriously  whether  they  were  master  of  the  arts  and  sciences  ; 
to  determine  the  value  of  these  sciences ;  to  apply  to  them 


20 


liis  searching  elenchus,  and  induce  them  to  and 

?-e-learn. 

At  this  day,  quacks  swarm  in  every  calling.  Men  prefer 
the  tricks  to  the  principles  of  their  profession.  They  are 
lazy-minded,  and  rely  upon  the  sudden  effort  of  genius,  or 
a  fortunate  concurrence  of  circumstances.  They  scheme 
that  they  may  not  think,  they  plot  how.  they  may  not 
reason. 

They  lose  sight  of  the  object  of  their  vocation,  and  find 
in  it  only  a  means  of  living,  forgetting  that,  as  they  elevate 
this,  they  ennoble  their  life. 

We  must  be  all-day  and  every-day  laborers.  We  must 
not  look  out  for  a  place  in  the  reserve  corps  for  emergen¬ 
cies,  but  take  our  stand  in  the  advanced  guard  for  action. 
Some  men  think  that  true  heroism  can  be  exhibited  only 
on  the  battle-field,  at  the  cannon’s  mouth,  in  the  bayonet 
charge.  They  are  as  chary  of  their  heroic  qualities  as 
Hudibras  of  his  wdt,  who 

“  As  loth  to  wear  it  put, 

And  therefore  bore  it  not  about ; 

Unless  on  holidays,  or  so. 

As  men  their  best  apparel  do.” 

But  in  the  varied  relations  which  a  man  has  to  family, 
neighbors,  country,  there  is  ample  opportunity  for  the  dis¬ 
play  of  heroism.  If  we  cannot  all  be  takers  of  cities,  we 
can  strive  to  obtain  the  more  difficult  accomplishment  of 
ruling  our  spirits. 

There  is  no  aristocracy  of  heroes  to-day.  Heroism  is 
sure  of  recognition,  if  it  does  not  wear  a  blue  ribbon.  We 
are  not  now  divided  into  barons  and  boors,  feudal  lords 
and  villeins.  Chivalry  is  not  to  him  alone,  who  can  search 
for  adventurers  on  good  steed.  As  the  individual  has  now 
the  same  deference  that  once  a  class  monopolized,  his 
heroic  work  has  a  fitting  tribute. 


21 


But  crowning  all  attributes  is  that  of  high,  pure  morali¬ 
ty.  The  people  assert  or  imagine  it  in  the  apotheosis  of 
their  favorites.  They  require  - its  existence  to  complete 
the  model,  and  well  they  may.  Daring  without  a  noble 
•motive  is  simply  audacity ;  courage  displayed  in  a  mean  ac¬ 
tion  cannot  obtain,  as  it  does  not  deserve,  our  esteem.  The 
development  and  cultivation  of  our  moral  nature  ennobles 
our  heroism,  as  it  directs  it  to  noble  ends.  Men  too  often 
discipline  to  the  utmost  their  intellect,  while  they  slight 
the  “  divinity  that  stirs  within  them.”  They  neglect  the 
promptings  of  their  nobler  being,  and  listen  to  selfish  am¬ 
bition,  and  thus  miss  the  attainment  of  a  well-rounded 
character.  The  anchorite  who  deadens  his  social  propen¬ 
sities,  is  not  more  foolish  than  he  who  pampers  his  selfish 
inclinations,  and  subdues  the  strivings  of  his  higher  nature. 

In  what  does  the  superiority  of  Demosthenes  over  his 
rival  consist  ?  In  the  arts  of  rhetoric,  ^schines  was  his 
equal ;  in  delivery,  perhaps  more  finished.  It  was  in  the 
moral  grandeur  of  Demosthenes’  character  ;  that  moral 
heroism  which  dared  to  rebuke  the  people,  which  pi  ompt- 
ed  him  to  speak  for  their  interest,  not  their  gratification, 
which  scorned  the  bribe  which  was  to  silence  his  patriotism. 
A  consciousness  of  moral  rectitude  gives  moral  power,  and 
weighs  against  superior  abilities,  when  great  interests  are 
at  stake. 

This  was  what  induced  the  people  to  put  confidence  in 
Phocion,  who  was  not  sparing  of  his  contempt  of  their  ap¬ 
plause.  It  is  the  most  admirable  part  of  Cicero’s  character, 
and  makes  us  regret  that  it  was  not  always  his  guiding 
principle.  It  elevates  his  philosophy  above  the  doctrine  of 
expediency,  of  Christian  moralists  even,  and  exalts  his  death 
to  a  martyrdom. 


22 


Look  for  a  moment  at  the  contrast.  The  moral  coward 
shrinks  from  duty,  shirks  responsibility ;  if  student,  re¬ 
sorts  to  headaches  to  escape  a  hard  task,  and  invents 
excuses  to  account  for  failures ;  yields  to  popular  pre¬ 
judice  ;  cowers  in  adversity  ;  blusters  in  success  ;  is  brave 
where  no  danger  is ;  suffers  thousand  deaths — with  the 
lips  ;  criticises  the  war  policy ;  denounces  the  war  tax ; 
magnifies  disaster ;  compromises  ;  dares  not  throw  over¬ 
board  those  who  are  attempting  to  sink  the  Ship  of 
State ;  avoides  inquiry ;  identifies  stout  assertion  with 
good  reasoning. 

The  reward  of  moral  heroism  is  the  consciousness  of 
having  done  right,  having  performed  one’s  duty ;  the  con¬ 
sciousness  of  right  thinking  and  right  acting — a  reward 
more  durable,  satisfying,  and  unalloying,  than  fame  or 
wealth,  which  fickle  fortune  transfers  from  one  to  another. 
Let  us  who  have  here  acquired  something  of  a  taste  for 
literature,  something  of  mental  discipline,  direct  it  to 
ennoble  whatever  heroic  qualities  we  have,  to  advance 
and  defend  the  cause  of  truth,  justice,  and  humanity. 

Allow  me  to  close  with  an  exhortation  which  might 
have  been  taken  as  the  text  or  burden  of  this  address  : 

•  “In  the  world’s  broad  field  of  battle, 

In  the  bivcyac  of  life, 

Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle, 

Be  a  hero  in  the  strife. 

“  Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing. 

With  a  heart  for  any  fate  ; 

Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 

•  Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait.” 


THEN  AND  NOW. 


The  Child,  impatient  of  the  lapse  of  time, 

Looks  forward  with  an  eager,  hopeful  eye. 

And  revels  in  the  gayly-colored  scenes 
Which  Fancy  ever  pictures  in  the  Future. 

The  Man,  more  sober  with  the  weight  of  years. 
Finding  the  fiction  fairer  than  the  fact. 

And  life  less  brilliant  than  the  gilded  promise. 

Turns  from  the  Present  still,  back  to  the  Past, 

And  wanders,  with  increased  delight  each  day. 

Amid  the  flowery  fields  of  Memory. 

And  when,  perchance,  two,  that  were  boys  together. 
Meet  by  some  accident  in  after  years. 

With  what  a  zest  do  they  rehearse  the  acts 
And  all  the  incidents  of  olden  times. 

So  here  to-day,  by  happy  fortune  brought. 
Long-sundered  friends  grasp  hands  with  joy  again. 
Exchange  kind  greetings,  and  recall  the  hours 
When  we  together  climbed  the  hill  of  Science. 


FIRST  EXPERIENCE. 

Momentous  day,  when  the  clear  ringing  sound 
Of  the  old  school-bell,  echoing  around. 

Grave  the  long-wished-for  and  yet  dreaded  call 
That  summoned  first  our  feet  to  Learning’s  hall. 

And  crowned  us  with — that  height  of  our  ambition — 
The  title  of  a  young  academician ! 

0  day  of  pride,  and  day  of  trials  too. 

Day  of  experiences  strange  and  new ! 


24 


The  grave  Preceptor,  with  a  learned  air, 

Sat  on  the  stage  in  a  large  easy-chair, 

And,  looking  still  more  wise  and  dignified, 

His  two  assistants  sat  on  either  side  ; 

While,  ranging  up  and  down  by  many  an  aisle, 

AVith  various  aspect,  sat  the  rank  and  file — 

Boys  from  the  city,  spruce,  and  trimly  dressed. 

Boys  from  the  village,  busy  rogues  at  best. 

Boys  from  the  country,  with  an  awkward  mien. 

More  fond  of  seeing  than  of  being  seen  ; 

Young  men  of  thoughtful,  literary  looks, 

AVho  had  spent  years  in  company  with  books ; 

And  others  still,  fresh  from  their  father’s  farm. 

With  sun-browned  face,  firm  lip,  and  sinewy  arm. 
Who  swung  the  scythe  in  summer-time  at  home, 

But  elsewhere  swung  the  birch  when  winter  come. 
And  on  the  other  side,  in  force  displayed. 

Long  lines  of  blooming  beauty  were  arrayed — 
Plump-cheeked  and  buxom  maids  with  laughing  eyes. 
And  pensive  damsels  in  more  sober  guise, 

Young  misses  of  a  prim  and  haughty  air. 

With  dress  genteel,  and  jewelry  to  spare ; 

And  pale-faced,  bright-eyed  girls,  modest  and  coy. 
Whose  presence  disconcerted  many  a  boy ; 

And  others  yet,  whose  manners,  more  mature, 

So  matron-like  and  easy,  made  you  sure 
That  they  had  often  held  imperial  rule. 

As  supreme  mistress  of  some  district  school. 

Such  was  the  panorama  when  we  met 
As  youthful  strangers,  and  its  memory  yet 
Is  fresh  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday 
We  saw  the  picture  and  it  passed  away. 


26 


It  was  the  opening  tableau  of  an  act 
In  Life’s  great  drama,  whose  recurring  scenes 
Made  impress,  and  wore  channels  in  our  hearts. 

That  all  Eternity  shall  not  efface. 

The  careful  teachings  of  those  early  years 
Brought  treasures  to  the  store-house  of  the  soul. 
Waked  up  the  sleeping  powers  of  Intellect, 

Created  aspirations,  new  and  strong. 

Made  pathways  for  Ambition,  opened  fields 
For  literary  action  and  renown. 

And  gave  fresh  skill  and  strength  for  worthy  deeds 
In  every  walk  and  circumstance  of  life. 

To  write  complete  the  record  of  those  times. 

Would  make  a  book  full  of  historic  rhymes, — 

A  curious  tale,  but  much  too  long,  I  fear. 

For  any  one  to  tell,  or  two  to  hear. 

It  must  suffice  to  give  a  hasty  glance 
At  here  and  there  a  salient  circumstance. 

Leaving  the  outline  for  some  leisure  day. 

And  let  each  fill  it  up  in  his  own  way. 

BECOMING  DOMESTICATED. 

How  soon  the  young  novitiate  at  school 
Gained  confidence  and  learned  to  work  by  rule ; 

How  soon,  by  unexpected  kindness  cheered. 

Each  timorous  apprehension  disappeared ! 

How  soon  the  scenes,  which  first  were  strange  and  new, 
By  oft-repeated  use,  familiar  grew. 

And  the  last  home-sick  symptom  passed  away 
Like  twilight  shadows  at  the  break  of  day  ! 

Even  that  attic-room  in  Students’  Hall,  ’ 


26 


With  one  projecting  window,  mean  and  small, 

Which  overlooked  the  solemn  church-yard  stones, 
With  fears  of  ghosts  and  visions  of  dry  bones. 

In  time  became  a  paradise  of  joy 
To  every  well-behaved  and  studious  boy. 

And  lessons  that  at  first  were  dull  and  dry 
As  an  old  tree-stump  ’neath  Sahara’s  sky. 

Soon,  as  if  vivified  by  summer  showers. 

Showed  signs  of  life,  and  put  forth  leaves  and  flowers. 
Each  figure  in  long  columns  seemed  to  sprout. 

And  every  unknown  x  gave  forth  a  shout ! 

Sharp  angles,  curves,  and  geometric  lines. 

Seemed  beautiful  as  ornamental  vines  ; 

Dead  languages  a  resurrection  took. 

And  from  their  locks  the  musty  cobwebs  shook ; 
Dumb  Nature  found  a  scientific  tongue. 

Antediluvian  rocks  looked  fresh  and  young. 

Planets  and  stars  in  splendor  sparkled  bright. 

And  the  whole  realm  of  learning  beamed  with  light ! 
0  halcyon  days  !  though  now  forever  past. 

Yet  long  your  happy  memory  shall  last — 

Not  dim  and  fading  with  each  setting  sun. 

But  growing  brighter  as  the  years  roll  on. 

Distance  shall  make  a  palace  of  a  cot. 

Each  smile  remembered,  and  each  tear  forgot. 

We  journeyed  then  through  literary  fields. 

And  plucked  the  golden  fruit  that  Science  yields, 

Trod  many  a  crooked  path  and  rugged  way. 

By  no  means  free  from  trials  and  delay  ; 

But,  manful,  resolute  and  patient  still. 

We  scaled  each  beetling  rock,  and  climbed  each  hill ; 
And  when  the  cheerful,  hard  day’s  work  was  done. 
Each  night  camped  higher  up  and  further  on. 


27 


WHAT  WE  DID. 

’Twas  then  we  learned  how  rules  of  Mathematics 
Could  he  applied  to  master  Hydrostatics  ; 

How  laws  of  Arithmetical  Progression, 

Govern  the  equinoxes  in  precession  ; 

Plow  one  may  often  change  his  situation, 

And  yet  be  very  dull  at  permutation  ; 

Or  be  a  gentleman  in  all  his  actions, 

And  practice  constantly  in  Vulgar  Fractions  ; 

Or  work  industriously  extracting  Roots, 

And  neither  mar  his  hands  nor  soil  his  boots ; 

Or  be  conservative  in  his  professions. 

And  yet  make  use  of  Radical  expressions  ; 

Or — still  more  strange  and  wonderful  to  tell — 

How  Jane  may  always  get  her  lessons  well 
(In  music),  and  yet  often  be  at  play 
(On  the  piano),  more  than  half  the  day. 

But  one  strange  thing,  the  solemn  truth  most  stern. 
Compels  me  to  admit  we  did  not  learn ; 

Indeed,  the  simple  fashions  of  those  days 
Gave  us  no  fitting  opportunities — 

(And  if  they  had,  such  questions  are  involved, 

’Tis  doubtful  if  the  problem  could  be  solved) — 

We  never  learned  the  form  of  calculation. 

Either  by  a  Quadratical  Equation, 

Or  better,  by  attempting  to  apply 
The  rules  of  Spherical  Geometry, 

To  properly  compute,  so  as  to  tell 
The  area  of  a  full-sized  modern  belle  ; 

And  long  to  come,  I  fear,  it  still  will  be, 

A  very  large,  but  unknown  quantity. 


t 


28 


FURTHER  ACQUISITIONS. 

But  other  questions,  not  so  difficult, 

Took  little  time  to  figure  the  result. 

And,  on  the  whole,  to  speak  with  modesty, 
Few  smarter  boys  have  lived  than  you  and  me 
Ah  !  don’t  you  now  remember  well  how  quick 
We  worked  the  tough  sums  in  Arithmetic  ; 
Covered  the  old  long  black-board  every  day, 
With  problems  curious  in  Algebra, 

And  found  the  value  of  y,  and  2^, 

With  most  astonishing  dexterity  ? 

And  couldn’t  we  parse  and  analyze 
Better  than  other  striplings  of  our  size  ? 
Philosophy  (the  natural  kind)  we  knew, 

From  the  beginning  to  the  end,  quite  through  ; 
Of  powers  mechanical,  we  knew  the  action. 
And  could  explain  the  causes  of  refraction ; 
Were  versed  in  principles  of  locomotion  ; 

The  theory  of  high  tides  in  the  ocean  ; 

The  science  of  chain  pumps  and  water-wheels  ; 
The  wonders  which  the  microscope  reveals. 
And  all  the  strange  results  of  Galvanism, 
Applied  to  telegraphs  and  magnetism. 

We  also  understood  thermometers  ; 

The  operation  of  barometers, 

And  various  different  ways  and  means 
Of  making  good  electrical  machines  ; 

Could  write  an  essay  on  the  use  of  snow, 

All  kinds  of  winds  explain,  and  why  they  blow, 
And  trace,  from  causes  of  disturbed  caloric. 

All  the  phenomena  called  meteoric  ; 


29 


Of  salts  and  acids  understood  the  nature, 

And  the  whole  system  of  their  nomenclature  ; 

How  substances,  in  near  vicinity. 

Are  moved  by  chemical  affinity. 

And  knew  by  heart  the  first  of  natural  laws. 

That  every  effect  must  have  a  cause ! 

CLIMBING  THE  HIGHEK  BRANCHES. 

Sometimes,  for  fear  of  dull  monotony. 

We  looked  a  little  into  Botany, 

And,  gathering  specimens  of  plants  most  rare. 

Pressed  and  preserved  them  with  the  greatest  care ; 
The  names  of  different  kinds  of  flowers  could  state — 
Hypocrateriform  to  labiate — 

And  soon,  to  tell  the  taste,  at  least,  were  able. 

Of  every  culinary  vegetable  ; 

And  fruit,  such  as  the  apple  and  the  peach, 
Investigated  all  within  our  reach. 

Zoology,  if  I  remember  rightly. 

We  also  took  in  hand  and  studied  slightly — 

Enough  to  know  which  animals  have  horns. 

Which  chew  the  cud,  and  which  a  mane  adorns. 

And  learned  (though  mostly  out  of  school)  the  habits 
Of  blue-ja3^s,  squirrels,  partridges  and  rabbits. 

And,  leaving  birds  and  beasts,  we  found  the  name 
Of  every  bone  within  the  human  frame  ; 

Read  chapters  on  the  intimate  relation 
Between  good  health  and  proper  mastication  ; 

Got  the  dyspepsia  studying  digestion. 

And  caught  a  cold  upon  the  warm-blood  question. 
Next,  with  contempt  for  things  of  modern  birth, 


30 


We  searched  the  hidden  archives  of  the  Earth, 
And  from  the  rocks  and  fossils  soon  could  show 
How  worlds  were  made,  and  just  how  long  ago. 
Expanding  still,  our  minds  soared  into  space. 
And  tracked  the  planets  in  their  nightly  race ; 
Learned  all  the  subtle  laws  of  gravitation. 

And  the  right  name  of  every  constellation  ; 
Studied  the  habits  of  the  Polar  Bear, 

And  calculated  very  nearly  where 
Some  twenty  thousand  years  to  come,  or  later. 
The  orbit  of  the  moon  will  cross  the  equator. 
Then,  passing  out  of  realms  material. 

We  took  up  things  yet  more  ethereal. 

Logic  received  our  dignified  attention, 

And  arts  of  argumentative  invention. 

The  principles  of  moral  science  too 
We  did  not  fail  to  carefully  review. 

And  ethically  reasoned  well  and  long 
On  the  distinction  between  right  and  wrong — 
A  subject  which  at  present  I  opine 
Is  much  neglected  south  of  Dixon’s  line. 


ADVENTURES  AMONG  THE  DEAD  LANGUAGES. 

These  things  we  studied  in  our  mother  tongue. 

As  any  boy  might  do,  however  young  ; 

But  soon,  disgusted  with  such  common  stock. 

We  left  them  all  behind  for  liic^  hcec,  hoc  ; 

The  Latin  grammar  conned  in  every  part. 

And  learned  the  rules  of  Syntax  all  by  heart ; 

Read  Caesar’s  expeditions  into  Gaul 

In  days  when  Rome  was  great  and  France  was  small. 


31 


Also  translated,  for  a  term  or  so, 

The  famous  speeches  made  by  Cicero  ; 

And  with  ^Eneas  crossed,  against  large  odds, 
(Occasioned  by  the  anger  of  the  gods) 

From  Troy  to  Italy,  and  founded  there 
A  wide-spread  empire,  powerful  and  fair. 

•  We  then,  proud  of  our  good  success  and  skili. 
For  classical  renown  ambitious  still. 

Not  without  danger  to  our  lives  and  limbs. 

Learned  all  the  Greek  jaw-breaking  paradigms  ; 
Filled  our  distracted  heads  with  o,  1/,  rd\ 

Took  breakfast,  dined  and  supped  on  [SovIevgo  ; 

And,  haunted  by  their  horrid  recollections. 

We  dreamed  at  night  of  aorist  inflections  ; 

Learned  and  remembered  then,  I  scarce  know  how. 
But  all,  thank  goodness,  well  forgotten  now  ! 

Yet  by  their  help,  with  Xenophon,  we  beat 
From  Babylon-  a  masterly  retreat. 

And  with  old  mythic  Homer  trod  the  path 
Of  Trojan  troubles  and  Achilles’  wrath. 

COMPOSITIONS  AND  DECLAMATIONS. 

But  our  rough  sketch  of  academic  life. 

Of  classic  drill  and  literary  strife. 

Would  not  be  half  complete  should  we  pass  by 
Those  tests  of  youthful  skill  and  bravery — 

The  two  great  lions  in  each  schoolboy’s  way. 

That  filled  his  heart  with  terror  and  dismay. 

To  waylay  one,  he  burned  the  midnight  oil. 

With  sleepless  industry  and  mental  toil. 

And  wrote  at  last  the  third  or  fourth  edition- 


82 


Of  soi:aething  whicli  he  called  a  composition. 

But  no  such  private  warfare  could  he  wage 
To  kill  the  other,  for  upon  the  stage, 

In  sight  of  all  and  without  hesitation. 

He  was  obliged  to  speak  his  declamation. 

And  when,  with  show  of  courage  well  dissembled — 
Although  his  knees,  like  old  Belshazzar’s,  trembled — , 
He  marched  upon  the  platform,  with  the  eyes 
Of  schoolmates  turned  like  hostile  batteries 
Upon  his  unprotected  person,  need  I  tell 
He  might  have  faced  the  cannon’s  mouth  as  well  ! 

0  lucky  wight  was  he  upon  the  start. 

If  what  he  thought  he  knew,  each  word  by  heart. 
Had  not  completely  vanished  from  his  mind 
And  left  a  perfect  vacuum  behind. 

But  if  his  soul,  more  manful,  did  not  melt 
With  fear,  and  he  succeeded,  then  he  felt 
As  much  relieved,  when  his  whole  part  was  acted, 

As  if  an  aching  tooth  had  been  extracted. 


THINGS  OMITTED. 

As  to  a  thousand  other  things  we  did 
And  suffered  in  those  days,  time  will  forbid 
My  pen  to  note ;  one  half  of  them  to  mention 
Would  sadly  trespass  on  your  kind  attention. 
And  first,  reluctantly,  I  must  omit 
The  story  of  the  wisdom  and  the  wit. 

Which  every  Wednesday  evening  we  expended 
In  the  Lyceum,  whose  debates  transcended. 

In  dignity  and  tact  professional. 

Some  that  m’e  heard  in  halls  congressional. 


33 


And  lest  this  seem  of  vanity  a  touch, 

I  would  remark,  it  is  not  saying  much  ! 

I  must  omit,  too,  even  an  allusion 

To  what  sometimes  produced  no  small  confusion 

In  all  our  studies,  and  upset  us  quite. 

Preventing  work  by  day  and  sleep  by  night ; 

I  mean  the  influence  of  certain  curls 
Belonging  to  confounded  pretty  girls. 

How  this  affected  things  in  after  life — 

If  you  do  not  remember,  ask  your  wife. 

Nor  have  I  time  to  tell  of  those  long  walks. 

Set  to  the  music  of  gay  laughs  and  friendly  talks. 
When  the  whole  school  would  start  off  with  a  will 
To  scour  some  wild  wood  or  ascend  some  hill. 

THE  DISPERSION. 

But  soon  the  time  of  separation  came. 

The  time  to  strike  our  temporary  tents. 

And  into  scenes  of  active  service  march. 

Camps  of  instruction  are  but  means,  not  ends. 

And  when  the  new  recruit  is  fully  trained 
In  every  necessary  tactic,  then  ^ 

His  trade  is  learned  and  he  must  practice  it. 

With  sad  yet  hopeful  hearts  we  bid  farewell 
To  scenes  and  friends  we  ne’er  might  meet  again. 
Spoke  one  kind  parting  word  and  shed  one  tear. 
And  then,  ambitious  for  the  stirring  field. 

Each  hastened  to  the  post  assigned  for  him. 

How  scattered  and  how  variously  employed, 

How  distant  and  how  multiform  our  paths  ! 

How  much  success,  how  much  adversity, 

3 


34 


How  many  shiftings  and  vicissitudes 

Have  compassed  us  about  and  shaped  our  lives, 

And  cast  our  fortunes  where  we  find  them  now  ! 


PRESENT  DIRECTORY. 

Some  walk  the  deck  where  the  wild  ocean  roars, 
Some  seek  for  gold  on  Californian  shores ; 

Some  on  the  western  prairies  find  a  home. 

Some  tread  the  ancient  halls  of  Greece  and  Rome 
Some,  leaving  earth’s  emoluments  behind. 

And  looking  heavenward  for  their  laurels,  find 
Love  for  their  hearts  and  labor  for  their  hands 
Among  benighted  tribes  in  heathen  lands  ; 

And  though  long  sundered  and  afar  away. 

Their  names  are  not  forgotten  here  to-day. 

Some,  satisfied,  and  wisely  too  I  ween. 

With  paths  familiar  and  long  trod,  are  seen 
Behind  the  plough  upon  those  good  old  hills. 

Left  and  bequeathed  them  in  their  fathers’  wills  ; 
Contented,  happy,  free  from  anxious  care. 

They  live  and  thrive  and  will  be  buried  there. 
But  many  a  restive  one  the  old  way  quits. 

Hoping  to  make  a  living  by  his  wits — 

Which  put  to  good  account,  we  must  confess. 

Do  sometimes  bring  a  harvest  of  success. 

The  crop,,  however,  ’s  more  uncertain  far 
Than  corn,  beans,  wheat  and  barley  are. 

Some,  having  eyes  as  good  as  plumbs  or  squares 
Are  skillful  in  mechanical  affairs. 

And  master  well  each  kind  of  useful  art. 

From  whittling  sticks  to  making  every  part 


35 


Of  a  steam-engine  or  chronometer, 

A  ship,  piano,  or  micrometer. 

Some  in  the  school-room  spend  their  energies. 
Training  the  youthful  mind  in  all  degrees 
Of  useful  knowledge,  and  in  all  the  arts 
Of  acting  worthy,  honorable  parts. 

These  are  recruiting  officers  ;  how  well 
Their  service  is  performed  we  soon  can  tell. 

For  in  life’s  conflict  those  which  they  incite 
Will  show  their  training  by  the  way  they  fight. 

Some  in  the  sacred  desk  proclaim  the  word. 
The  power  and  coming  kingdom  of  the  Lord  ; 

A  fearful  trust  is  that  their  lives  fulfill. 

To  stand  as  watchmen  upon  Zion’s  hill ; 

Their  feet  are  beautiful,  for,  lo  !  they  bring 
Good  tidings  and  the  peace  which  angels  sing. 
Pray  that  their  cause  may  prosper,  and  the  reign 
Of  truth  extend  o’er  every  sea  and  main. 

Some,  of  a  literary  turn  of  mind. 

In  writing  books  their  chief  employment  find  ; 

Or,  if  of  active  thought  and  ready  means. 

Edit  newspapers,  publish  magazines. 

And  thus  wield  mighty  powers  of  enginery 
For  good  or  evil,  as  the  case  may  be. 

Some  seem  for  medicine  to  have  a  taste, 

And  spend  their  lives  in  making  pills  and  paste — 
Of  which  sometimes  a  little  is  first-rate  ; 

In  fact,  the  less  the  better,  I  might  state. 

For  of  their  physic  often  just  the  fears 
Will  keep  a  man  in  health  for  many  years. 

In  other  cases,  nothing  but  the  smell 
Of  a  good  doctor  makes  the  patient  well. 


36 


But  jokes  aside,  our  good  Academy 

Has  no  more  honored  sons  than  those  we  see, 

With  self-denying  toil  and  slight  repose. 

Attempting  to  avert  the  many  woes 
That  flesh  is  heir  to,  and  with  soul  and  heart 
Assisting  Nature  in  the  healing  art. 

Some  take  up  Law — a  choice  we  won’t  condemn, 
For  Law  is  often  known  to  take  up  them. 

And  if  the  small  experience  of  Law, 

Most  people  have,  leads  them  to  dread  its  paw, 
How  should  they  pity  those  deluded  men 
Who,  so  to  speak,  dwell  in  its  very  den  ; 

But,  as  the  world  is,  we  must  all  allow. 

Lawyers  are  necessary  evils  now. 

And  it  is  hardly  fair  in  us  to  scout  them. 

When  we  admit  we  could  not  do  without  them  ; 
And  certainly  it  is  their  due  to  say 
That  they  will  sometimes  tell  a  man  the  way 
To  keep  out  of  much  useless  litigation. 

Which  is  the  very  best  of  information. 

The  practice  of  the  Law  with  equity. 

And  from  the  taint  of  fraud  and  baseness  free. 

Has  not  a  rival  calling  which  exceeds 
The  worth  and  honor  of  its  noble  deeds. 

Some,  shrewd  and  skillful  in  financial  lore. 
Mighty  at  keeping  gold  and  getting  more. 

With  large  and  interest-ing  distributions. 

Are  managing  our  moneyed  institutions. 

Upon  their  stocks,  what  rate  per  cent,  they  get. 
How  they  invest,  and  what  their  incomes  net. 

Are  questions  which  are  naught  to  you  and  me, 
Provided  all  is  done  with  honesty. 


37 


Some,  in  exchange  and  market  prices  wise, 

Are  dealing  still  in  freights  and  merchandise — 
Merchants  and  tradesmen,  an  industrious  class. 

Who  well  (if  fairly)  earn  what  they  amass. 

Some,  with  the  limner’s  wondrous  power  inspired. 
With  fancy  filled  and  with  ambition  fired,' 

Upon  the  speaking  canvas  leave  their  name 
To  future  honor  and  the  roll  of  Fame. 

TOO  NUMEROUS  TO  MENTION. 

But  why  enumerate  in  this  review 

The  trades  and  callings  which  they  each  pursue  ? 

All  things  that  any  body  ever  did. 

Unless  unworthy,  or  by  law  forbid. 

With  vigorous  hand  and  intellectual  brow 
The  children  of  our  school  are  doing  now. 

While  we  a  few  in  glad  reunion  meet. 

The  many,  far  and  wide  with  hurrying  feet. 

To-day  are  pressing  toward  their  several  goals 
With  tireless  spirits  and  courageous  souls. 

Some  with  material  tools  are  working  still. 

Others  with  implements  of  mind  and  will ; 

Some  boldly  striving  here,  some  suffering  there. 
Some  burdened  with  the  weight  of  anxious  care. 
Some  well  and  wisely  filling  public  stations. 

Some  paragons  in  private  situations  ; 

And  some,  God  bless  them,  sword  in  hand. 

Fighting  the  battles  of  their  father-land. 

Oh !  in  the  coming  stern  and  deadly  strife. 

In  which  they  risk  their  fortunes  and  their  life. 

Kind  Heaven  protect  them  ’midst  the  cannon’s  roar. 


38 


Where  steel  meets  steel,  and  fiery  death-shots  pour. 
And  when  on  trembling  wires  the  tidings  come 
Of  the  great,  bloody  conflict’s  hecatomb, 

Of  routed,  flying  columns  rushing  by. 

And  half  dismayed  we  ask.  Who  fly  ? — who  fly  ? 
God  grant  the  answer  evermore  may  be. 

The  scattered  cohorts  of  the  enemy  ! 

GONE  BEFORE. 

And  some,  ah  !  many,  cherished  long  ago. 

Are  fallen  now,  and  weeping  willows  grow 
In  sadness  over  their  untimely  graves. 

No  rich  and  costly  sculptured  marble  saves 
Their  names  and  memories  one  half  so  well 
As  our  torn,  bleeding  hearts  the  records  tell. 

In  silence  still  we  drop  the  sorrowing  tear. 

And  sadly,  vainly,  wrongly  wish  them  here. 

O  may  our  lives  to  others  be  such  joy. 

By  every  virtuous,  generous  employ. 

That  when  the  willows  weep  o’er  you  and  me. 

We  still  shall  leave  a  blessed  memory. 

A  BENEDICTION. 

Friends  we  have  met  to  show  the  love  we  bear 
Toward  the  old,  honored  institution,  where. 

In  times  gone  by,  a  welcome  home  we  found. 

With  rich  and  plenteous  tables  spread  around. 

At  her  full  board  we  feasted  every  day. 

And  never  empty  were  we  sent  away. 

Hers  was  the  food  that  nourishes  the  mind — 

She  fed  us  freely  as  a  mother  kind  ; 


39 


And  never  shall  our  grateful  hearts  forget 
Where’er  we  roam,  she  is  our  mother  yet ! 

Though  many  a  year  of  absence  intervene, 

Though  many  a  lake  and  mountain  come  between, 
The  language  of  our  hearts  shall  always  be, 

Long  life  to  Appleton  Academy  ! 

Long  may  she  gather  in  her  ample  fold 
A  growing,  happy  flock,  and,  as  of  old. 

Dispense  the  blessings  of  her  wine  and  corn. 

With  bounty  new,  to  thousands  yet  unborn. 

PRO  PATRIA. 

Here  might  we  cease,  but  a  dark  cloud  I  see, 

A  gathering  tempest  rising  fearfully  ; 

Death  and  destruction  follow  in  its  track — 

0  God  of  battles  !  turn  the  whirlwind  back. 

My  Country — prince  of  nations — can  it  be 
So  short  a  life  is  all  thy  destiny  ? 

Was  it  for  this  the  fathers  shed  their  blood. 

Was  it  for  this  through  fiery  paths  they  trod  ? 

Was  it  for  this,  ’mid  storm  and  strife,  they  reared 
A  mighty  empire,  honored,  loved  and  feared  ? 

And  must  the  western  world’s  great  beacon  light 
Go  out  so  soon  in  everlasting  night  ? 

Have  patriots  lived  their  lives  in  vain  ? 

Must  order  die  that  anarchy  may  reign  ? 

0  happy  Union,  guardian  of  the  free, 

The  home  of  Peace,  of  Law,  of  Liberty. 

Patron  of  Science,  faithful  friend  of  Art, 

Revered  and  cherished  by  each  loyal  heart. 

Of  schools  the  great  protector  and  creator, 


40 


The  Alma  Mater  of  our  Alma  Mater  ; 

Joy  of  proud  millions  in  their  happy  home, 

And  promised  joy  of  millions  yet  to  come. 

Under  the  shadow  of  its  fostering  wing 
Each  noble  industry  developing- — 

Growth  and  prosperity  unknown  before, 

Making  a  nation’s  cup  with  wealth  run  o’er. 
Commerce,  with  rapid  wheels  and  spreading  sails. 

Its  great  producer  and  defender  hails. 

The  husbandman,  with  peace  and  plenty  blest, 

’Neath  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree  sits  at  rest. 

Eeligious  freedom,  equal  civil  rights. 

All  join  to  make  a  land  whose  shore  invites 
The  victims  of  oppression  everywhere. 

To  seek  its  shelter  and  its  blessings  share — 

Blessings  such  as  the  all-observing  sun 

In  his  whole  course  ne’er  elsewhere  looks  upon  ! 

And  shall  vile  hands  in  Vandal  wrath  destroy 
This  precious  fabric  of  our  hope  and  joy  ? 

Shall  thrice  accursed  feet  tread  in  the  dust 
The  sacred  banner  of  our  pride  and  trust  ? 

By  all  the  hardships  that  our  fathers  bore — 

By  all  the  blood  they  shed  on  fields  of  gore — 

By  all  they  wrought  when  the  great  work  was  done — 
By  the  immortal  name  of  Washington — 

By  our  past  history  and  all  its  charms — 

By  our  heroic  brothers  now  in  arms — 

By  all  our  hopes  in  peaceful  age  to  die — 

By  all  our  duty  to  posterity — 

To  Heaven  we  raise  the  death-averting  prayer 
And  on  the  altar  of  our  country  swear. 

Traitors  shall  not  our  blessed  Union  sever — 

The  glorious  Stars  and  Stripes  shall  float  forever  ! 


CHRONICLES 


The  word  of  the  Prophet  Benammi,  which  is  written  in  the 
^ok  of  Jasher. 


Chapter  I. 

The  Building  of  the  first  Academy,  at 
the  close  of  the  Revolution.  The 
vision  of  the  three-score-and-twelve 
Sycamore  Trees,  and  of  the  three 
Ears  of  Corn.  The  children  of  the 
land  taught  by  John,  whose  surname 
was  Hubbard. 

1 .  And  there  ivas  war  and  pesti¬ 
lence  in  the  land :  for  the  King  of 
the  East  sent  choice  and  mighty  men 
of  valor,  chief  of  the  Princes,  that 
were  apt  to  the  tear  and  to  battle, 
who  spoiled  our  people,  and  smote 
the  land  in  all  the  length  and  breadth 
thereof  ; 

2.  And fell  upon  our  hosts  at Hesh- 
bon,  which  is,  by  interpretation,  Lex¬ 
ington,  and  at  Pihahiroth,  which  is, 
by  inter2:>retation.  Bunker  Hill,  be¬ 
tween  Migdol  and  the  sea  ;  over 
against  Baalzephon,  which  is  Bos¬ 
ton.  And  the  Ark  of  our  Liberty 
was  driven  to  and  fro  upon  the  wa¬ 
ters. 

3.  Then  said  Stephen,  the  priest, 
whose  surname  was  Farrar,  to  John, 
the  physician,  who  dwelt  in  the  land 
of  Gilead,  which  is,  by  interpretation, 
New  Ipswich  :  ''Look  forth  and  de¬ 
clare  unto  me  if  thou  canst  see  Ara¬ 
rat,  upon  which  the  Ark  may  rest.” 


4.  Then  John  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  wept,  saying  :  "Nary  rat.” 

5.  And  it  came  to  pass  that  after¬ 
ward  the  hosts  of  the  King  of  the  East 
were  delivered  into  our  hands,  and 
the  waters  were  abated  from  off  the 
earth,  and  the  Ark  rested  on  the 
Mount. 

6.  Then  Stephen,  the  priest,  and 
John,  the  physician,  and  Charles, 
whose  surname  was  Barrett,  a  coun¬ 
cillor  in  the  land,  with  others,  elders 
among  the  people,  decreed  a  taberna¬ 
cle  to  be  built  thereon,  where  the  Ark 
had  rested,  and  they  called  the  hill 
the  "Hill  of  Knowledge.” 

7.  Then  spake  Stephen  and  said : 
"Lo  !  a  foolish  son  is  a  grief  to  his 
father,  and  is  a  vain  babbler,  even  as 
one  of  those  who  look  up)on  the  ivine 
when  it  is  red,  and  go  to  seek  mixed 
ivine. 

8.  For,  verily,  is  our  land  with¬ 
out  wisdom;  if  Saul,  the  son  of  Kish, 
sought  for  his  beasts  of  burden,  their 
multitude  would  be  as  grasshoppers 
and  their  name  Legion.” 

9.  Then  Charles,  the  councillor, 
answered  and  said:  "Thou  speak- 
est  truly,  nor  will  I  abate  one  jot  or 
one  tittle  of  the  words  of  thy  mouth. 


42 


CHRONICLES. 


Build  loe,  then,  a  tabernacle,  that  our 
sons  may  he  as  plants  grown  up  in 
their  youth,  and  that  our  daughters 
may  he  as  corner-stones,  polished 
after  the  similitude  of  a  palace.'’^ 

10.  Then  John,  the  physician, 
cried  aloud  and  said :  ^^Lo  !  for 
these  many  years  have  I  wrestled  ivith 
folly,  even  as  Jacob,  descending  from 
his  ladder,  wrestled  with  the  Angel, 
when  his  thigh  was  out  of  joint  at  the 
last  round. 

1 1 .  Charles  hath  said,  so  let 
it  he,  that  within  this  tabernacle  a 
wise  man  may  give  our  children  wis¬ 
dom,  and  if  peradventure  they  shall 
he  stiff-necked  and  rebellious,  let  him 
harden  his  heart,  and  lift  his  hand 
against  them  and  smite  them  hip  and 
thigh.  Yea,  until  they  do  cry  aloud, 
let  him  spare  not. 

1 2.  And  behold,  within  the  taber¬ 
nacle  can  our  children  tarry  at 
noons,  and  stay  themselves  with  fla¬ 
gons,  and  be  comforted  ivith  apples. 

13.  And  when  the  time  cometh  to 
marry,  and  be  given  in  marriage, 
our  daughters  may  come  up  hither 
to  draw  beaux  at  a  venture,  even  as 
the  archer,  who  smote  Ahab,  King 
of  Israel.” 

14.  ^  Then  John  fell  asleep,  and 
dreamed  a  dream,  and,  lo !  three- 
score-and-twelve  Sycamore  trees 
stood  afar  off  upon  a  mountain. 

15.  And  beyond  the  Sycamore 


trees  there  was  a  palace,  and  in  the. 
court  of  the  palace  there  was  a  great 
multitude,  and  songs  and  f  eastings, 
and  dancing  and  mirth. 

1 6.  And  there  were  those  skillful 
to  play  upon  the  timbrel  and  the  harp, 
and  brass-bands  and  contrabands, 
and  all  manner  of  sweet  melody. 

17.  And,  lo,  three  ears  of  corn 
sprung  up  before  the  multitude  and 
made  obeisance.  And  two  ears  were 
comely  and  well-favored  ears,  rank 
and  good  ;  but  the  third  ear  was  a 
thin  ear,  blasted  by  the  east  wind, 
one  of  the  lean  kind. 

18.  And  the  multitude  plucked 
the  two  well-favored  ears,  and  cher¬ 
ished  them;  but  the  thin  ear  they 
cast  into  the  fire. 

19.  Then  John  awaked,  and,  be¬ 
hold,  it  was  a  dream.  And  he  ivas 
troubled,  and  commanded  Stephen 
that  he  should  interpret  it. 

20.  Then  Stephen  answered  and 
said :  ‘  ‘  The  Sycamore  trees  are  three 
score  years  and  twelve,  and  the  mul¬ 
titude  are  the  people  of  the  land,  who 
shall  come  together  to  the feast  of  Un¬ 
leavened  Bread,  which  is  the  meeting 
of  the  Alumni. 

2 1 .  The  thin  ear  is  the  son  of  thy 
son’s  son,  who  shall  speak  to  the  peo¬ 
ple,  and  the  two  comely  and  well- 
favored  ears  are  the  two  that  shall 
speak  with  him. 

22.  They  shall  be  pleasant  to  the 


CHRONICLES. 


43 


people,  and  find favor  in  their  sight ; 
hut  the  son  of  thy  son’s  son  shall  he 
laughed  to  scorn,  and  he  covered 
with  confusion  as  with  a  garment. 
Behold  he  shall  he  even  as  Issachar, 
couching  down  between  two  hur- 
densP 

23.  Then  John  was  exceeding 
grieved,  and  rent  his  clothes,  and 
Stephen  mourned  with  him. 

24.  Now,  when  the  elders  had 
decreed  the  tabernacle  to  he  built,  the 
people  from  round  about  brought 
shekels  of  gold,  and  shekels  of  silver, 
and  tithes  of  mint,  anise,  and  cum¬ 
in,  and  wrought  all  the  work  of 
the  tabernacle.  And  the  elders  look¬ 
ed  upon  the  work,  and,  behold,  it  was 
done  as  had  been  commanded. 

25.  Then  the  sons  and  daughters 
of  the  land  went  up  to  the  tabernacle, 
and  sat  at  the  feet  of  John,  whose 
surname  was  Hubbard,  a  discreet 
man,  who  taught  them  wisdom.  And 
the  name  of  the  tabernacle  waxed 
mighty  in  the  region  round  about. 

26.  And  many  came  thither  from 
Tadmor,  in  the  wilderness,  which  is, 
by  interpretation.  Mason,  andfrom 
Mesopotamia,  which  is  Ashby.  The 
excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon 
teas  there;  and  there  came  some 
from  the  far  country  of  Moab,  which 
is,  by  interpretation,  Lunenburg. 


Chapter  II. 

The  overturn  of  the  Horse-sheds  by 
the  Academy  Students,  in  the  Year 
of  Grace  1789.  The  removal  to 
the  second  Academy  Building,  in 
1817.  Sundry  Teachers  of  the 
Academy.  Students’  Hall  built. 
The  good  reign  of  Edward. 

1.  Now,  also,  upon  the  hill  there 
was  a  Sanctuary,  and  over  against 
the  Sanctuary  there  was  a  porch  built 
up,  with  beams  of  cedar  and  rafters 
of  fir,  wherein  were  stalls  for  the 
horses  and  chariots  of  those  who  ivent 
up  to  the  Sanctuary  to  worship. 

2.  ^  Now,there  were  certain  of  the 
young  men,  who  sat  in  the  tabernacle, 
at  the  feet  of  John,  who  were  sons  of 
Belial,  of  froward  heart,  clad  in 
sheeps-grey  clothing  ;  but,  inwardly, 
ravening  wolves. 

3.  And  ivhen  they  saw  the  porch, 
nigh  to  the  Sanctuary,  they  passed 
by,  wagging  their  heads,  saying : 
“  Verily,  there  shall  not  be  left  of  it 
one  stone  upon  another. 

4.  And  it  came  to  pass,  about  the 
second  watch  of  the  night,  that  these 
sons  of  Belial  gathered  together  at  the 
house  of  a  publican  and  wine-bibber, 
who  dealt  in  familiar  spirits,  and 
tarried  for  a  season. 

5.  And  they  cried  out  to  the  pub¬ 
lican,  saying  :  “Behold  f  can  a  bird 
fall  in  a  snare  upon  the  earth,  whei'e 
no  gin  is  for  him  ?  Give  us  of  your 


44 


CHRONICLES. 


new  wine,  that  we  may  put  it  into  old 
bottles,  and  of  your  tobacco,  that  %ue 
may  make  a  burnt  offering  to  Gog, 
and  Magog,  and  Memphremagog , 
lest,  peradventure,  thou  be  smitten 
with  sharp  arrows  of  the  mighty,  and 
coals  of  juniper  y 

6.  And  the  publican  was  sore 
amazed,  and  straightway  did  as  they 
commanded. 

7.  And  after  a  little  time  they 
girded  up  their  loins,  and  departed 
from  the  house,  and  they  reeled  to 
and  fro,  and  staggered  like  a  drunk¬ 
en  man,  and  were  at  their  wits’ 
end,  that  the  saying  might  be  fulfill¬ 
ed,  that  they  should  be  like  a  lodge 
in  a  garden  of  cucumbers — in  a  sad 
pickle. 

8.  But  they  spake  privily,  one  to 
another,  and  went  up  to  the  porch, 
and  smote  it,  and  buffeted  it,  and  it 
fell,  and  great  was  the  fall  of  it. 

9.  And  the  people,  round  about, 
were  sore  afraid,  and  ran  upon  the 
housetops,  girded  with  linen  ephods, 
but  they  wist  not  what  evil  had  be¬ 
fallen  them. 

1  o.  But  ivhen  morning  had  come, 
and  the  people  beheld  that  the  porch 
was  thrown  down  from  its  founda- 
.  tion,  they  rent  their  clothes  and  put 
ashes  on  their  heads,  and  mourners 
went  about  the  streets. 

1 1 .  But  the  sons  of  Belial  were 
bound,  and  thrown  into  prison,  and 


condemned  to  pay  fourfold,  and  great 
fear  fell  upon  them  from  that  very 
hour. 

12.  ^  Now,  John,  who  had  taught 
the  people  many  things,  was  chosen 
to  great  honor,  and  departed  from  the 
land  of  Gilead.  And  after  him  came 
many  who  ministered  in  the  taber¬ 
nacle. 

13.  And  one,  called  Luke,  a  sim¬ 
ple  man,  void  of  understanding,  es¬ 
sayed  to  teach  the  people ;  but  the 
sons  and  daughters  waxed  exceeding 
wroth,  and  cried:  ‘'What  portion 
have  we  in  thee,  thou  simple  one  ? 
though  thou  wert  brayed,  like  a  don¬ 
key,  in  a  pestle  and  mortar,  thy  fool¬ 
ishness  would  not  depart  from  thee.” 

14.  And  the  elders  were  angry 
with  Luke,  and  dealt  hardly  with 
him,  and  fell  upon  him,  and  he  fled 
from  before  their  face. 

15.  After  him  came  Hart,  whose 
surname  was  Talcott ;  but  after  the 
days  of  his  teachings  had  been  few. 
Hart  panted for  the  waterbrooks,  and 
shook  the  dust  of  Gilead  from  his 
feet. 

16.  •[[  And  it  came  to  pass,  in  the 
eight-and-twentieth  year  of  the  build¬ 
ing  of  the  tabernacle,  that  the  children 
of  the  people  departed  from  it. 

1 7.  And  the  place  that  had  known 
them,  knew  them  no  more,  and  be¬ 
came  a  dwelling  for  the  owl  of  the 
desert,  and  the  pelican  of  the  wilder- 


CHRONICLES. 


45 


ness,  until  the  coming  of  the  Chief 
Baker,  who  fenced  it,  and  digged 
about  it,  and  repaired  the  breaches 
in  the  wall,  and  now  sitteth  under 
his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  faring 
sumi^tuously  every  day. 

18.  And  the  elders  builded  an¬ 
other  tabernacle,  near  the  valley  of 
dry  bones,  and  therein  many  wise 
and  discreet  men  taught  the  people. 

1 9.  And  one,  whose  surname  was 
Coffin,  a  grave  man,  whom  the  peo¬ 
ple  delighted  to  honor,  tarried  many 
years  in  Gilead,  and  his  acts,  are  they 
not  written  in  the  records  of  the 
land? 

20.  ^  After  a  time  came  Charles, 
ivhose  surname  was  Shedd.  And, 
behold,  the  children  of  the  taberna¬ 
cle  were  in  tribulation,  and  sighed 
for  the  fieshpots  of  Egypt. 

21.  For,  said  they  :  There  is  no 
becoming  place  wherein  we  may  eat 
our  lentils  and  pottage.  Verily,  the 
foxes  have  holes,  and  opossums  have 
wherewith  to  hang  from  the  high 
trees,  but  the  children  of  the  taber¬ 
nacle  have  no  place  to  lay  their 
heads.” 

22.  And  Charles  heard  their  cry, 
and  was  moved  to  compassion,  and 
took  counsel  with  the  elders,  that  a 
palace  might  be  builded,  wherein 
should  be  many  mansions. 

23.  And  they  called  the  name 
thereof  “  Students’  Hall,”  and  it  was 


builded  in  the  valley  of  dry  bones. 
For,  said  the  elders  unto  Charles  : 
“Will  not  our  children  thereby  be 
admonished  of  Death  on  a  pale  horse, 
Shedd?” 

24.  And  Charles  answered,  and 
said :  “  Verily,  your  words  arejvords 
of  wisdom.  Be  it  even  as  you  have 
decreed.” 

25.  And  the  children  went  up  to 
the  palace,  and  abode  therein,  and 
lucre  filled  with  all  manner  of  fat¬ 
ness.  And  after  this,  the  reign  of 
Charles  lasted  many  years. 

26.  ^  In  the  three-and-twentieth 
year  of  the  building  of  the  second  ta- 
bernacle,came  James,  ivhose  surname 
was  Colby,  a  man  of  perfect  heart  ; 
yet  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign  he 
was  smitten  with  a  grievous  affiic- 
tion,for  a  certain  young  man  of  the 
land,  even  the  thin  ear  of  the  vision, 
went  up  to  the  tabernacle,  and  sat  at 
his  feet,  and  did  that  which  was  evil. 

27.  And  the  heart  of  James  was 
sorely  vexed,  and  he  turned  away 
from  Gilead,  and  departed  afar  off. 

28.  After  a  season  came  Edward, 
whose  surname  was  Lawrence,  a  wise 
man ,  who  dealt  uprightly,  and  walk¬ 
ed  in  his  integrity.  And  his  days 
were  marked  by  gentleness  and  peace. 

29.  Many  children  of  the  people 
drew  nigh  unto  his  loving  kindness, 
and  they  took  sweet  counsel  together. 


46 


CHRONICLES. 


and  walked  to  the  House  of  God  in 
company. 

30.  Now  the  rest  of  the  acts  of 
Edward  j  and  his  many  hind  words, 
and  his  goodness,  they  are  graven 
loith  the  point  of  a  diamond  on  the 
tablets  of  our  memory. 

3 1 .  After  his  abode  in  Gilead  had 
lasted  many  years,  he  departed  into 
a  far  country. 


Chapter  III. 

The  coming  of  Elihu,  and  the  great 
sin  of  them  that  stole  gingerbread 
from  the  excellent  Commissary,  Un¬ 
cle  Benny,  in  1853. 

1.  Then  the  elders  gathered  them¬ 
selves  together,  and  spake,  one  to  an¬ 
other:  '^Whom,  noiv,  shall  we  ap- 
point  to  minister  unto  our  childrenP’ 

2.  And,  behold,  there  came  unto 
them  a  certain  man ,  having  on  a  wed¬ 
ding  garment,  and  his  name  was  like 
the  name  of  the  friend  of  Job,  Elihu, 
the  son  of  Barachel,  the  Buzite,  of 
the  kindred  of  Bam  ; 

3.  A  comely  man,  so  that  there 
was  none  like  him,  and  his  price  was 
above  rubies.  And  when  the  elders 
looked  on  him,  they  cried  out,  with 
one  accord:  ^‘Behold,  an  Israelite 
indeed,  in  whom  there  is  no  guileP 

4.  And  they  fell  upon  his  neck, 
and  kissed  him,  and  anointed  his 
head  with  oil,  and  arrayed  him  in 
purple  and  fine  linen  ;  for  their  love 


of  him  was  wonderful,  passing  the 
lo  ve  of  women. 

5.  And  they  made  ready  a  feast, 
and  killed  the  fatted  calf,  and  an¬ 
swered  those  who  inquired  what  these 
things  meant :  ^^It  is  meet  that  we 
should  eat  veal,  for  this,  our  instruct¬ 
or,  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again,  teas 
lost,  and  is  foundP 

6.  And  Elihu  dwelt  in  the  land  of 
Gilead,  and  abode  in  the  house  of 
one  Amos,  a  tanner. 

7.  ^  Now,  there  was  a  certain  man, 
of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  who  tarried 
in  Gilead,  who  sold  food  to  the  peo¬ 
ple  of  the  land,  and  drove  through 
the  region  round  about  in  a  chariot, 
crying :  ^Ho  !  Every  one  that  is  an 
hungered,  come  ye  and  buy.’’ 

8.  And  he  called  the  name  thereof 
gingerbread,  and  it  was  like  corian¬ 
der  seed,  white,  and  the  taste  thereof 
was  like  wafers  made  with  honey. 

9.  Now,  when  the  day  of  Pente¬ 
cost,  which  is  town-meeting,  was  nigh 
at  hand,  there  were  certain  Philis¬ 
tines,  who  sat  at  the  feet  of  Elihu  ; 
who  took  counsel  together,  that  they 
might  eat  of  this  bread,  for  silver  and 
gold  they  had  none. 

10.  Then  spake  one,  lohom  they 
called  Nicodemus : 

11.  ye  not  how  David  ate 
the  shewbread,  when  he  was  an  hun¬ 
gered?  First,  then,  let  us  bind  the 


CHRONICLES. 


strong  man,  and  then  we  will  spoil 
his  goods” 

1 2.  But  another,  who  was  named 
Bardbbas,  rebuked  him,  and  said : 
“Nag,  rather  let  us  take  it  like  a 
thief,  in  the  night,  that  no  man  may 
behold  us.”  Now,  Barabbas  was  a 
robber. 

1 3.  And  it  came  to  pass,  about  the 
sixth  hour  of  the  night,  that  these 
Philistines  drew  nigh  unto  the  char¬ 
iot,  and  despoiled  it  in  basket  and  in 
store,  till  its  burden  was  clean  gone 
forever.  And  they  made  merry,  and 
feasted  upon  it,  and  wasted  their  sub¬ 
stance  in  riotous  living.  - 

14.  And  the  son  of  Benjamin  luas 
troubled,  and  wept,  like  the  weeping 
of  Jazer  for  the  vine  of  Sibmah,  for 
he  said:  “The  wicked  have  lifted  up 
their  hand  against  me,  and  have 
dashed  me  in  pieces,  like  a  pottePs 
vessel.”  And  his  grief  was  very 
great. 

15.  Now,  when  the  acts  of  Nico- 
demus  and  Barabbas  came  to  the  ears 
of  Elihu,  he  waxed  exceeding  angry, 
and  went  to  their  abiding  place,  and 
behold  the  dogs  licked  up  the  crumbs 
from  beneath  their  table. 

16.  Then  said  Elihu:  “What 
wickedness  is  this,  that  is  done 
among  you  ?” 

17.  And  they  were  speechless; 
and  he  said  to  those  that  were  with 
him :  “Go  near  and fall  upon  them.” 


And  they  were  bound,  and  cast  into 
outer  darkness. 

18.  And  it  was  so,  that  all  who  saw 
it  said,  there  was  never  before  such 
deed  done  or  seen  in  the  land  of  Gil¬ 
ead.  And  the  people  of  the  land 
fasted  five  nights  and  five  days  for 
the  wickedness  of  these  Philistines. 

1 9.  And  when  the  day  of  Pente¬ 
cost  had  fully  come,  the  chief  ruler, 
which  is  the  moderator ,  fell  sick,  for 
there  was  no  gingerbread  to  be  min¬ 
istered  unto  him. 

Chapter  IV. 

The  noble  generosity  of  Samuel,  and 

the  building  of  the  third  Taber¬ 
nacle,  even  the  new  Academy,  in 

‘853- 

1.  Now  there  was  a  certain  man, 
a  son  of  Gilead,  who  dwelt  m  Baal- 
zephon,  which  is  Boston,  and  his 
name  was  Samuel,  and  he  had  great 
possessions  ;  a  just  man,  who  cast  his 
bread  upon  the  waters,  and  turned 
him  not  aivay  from  the  cry  of  the 
widow  and  the  fatherless. 

2.  And  he  died  in  a  good  old  age, 
filled  with  riches  and  honor,  like  a 
shock  of  coi'n fully  ripe. 

3.  Now  Samuel  has  bestowed  upon 
the  treasury  of  the  tabernacle  talents 
of  gold  and  talents  of  silver,  that  its 
power  might  extend  through  all  the 
country  round  about. 

4.  ^  Then  the  elders  decreed  that 
a  new  tabernacle  should  be  built,  over 


48 


CHRONICLES. 


against  the  King^s palace.  And  they 
called  Elisha,  the  cunning  artificer, 
and  Hosea,  a  man  of  ivisdoni  and 
understanding,  whom  the  people  have 
delighted  to  honor,  and  commanded 
them  that  the  tabernacle  should  be 
built. 

5.  And  this  was  the  manner  of  the 
building:  The  length  thereof  was 
threescore  cubits,  and  the  breadth 
thereof  was  fifty  cubits,  and  the 
height  thereof  was  seventy  cubits. 

6.  And  for  the  house  they  made 
chambers,  and  against  the  wall  they 
built  them  round  about,  and  the 
length  andbreadth  thereof  was  twen¬ 
ty  cubits ;  and  the  chambers  ivere 
built  and  finished  with  cedar  and 
fir-trees,  lohich  were  brought  from 
the  valley  of  Hinnom,  which  is  To- 
phet. 

7.  And  the  doors  ivere  of  fir-tree, 
and  the  two  leaves  of  the  one  door 
were  folding,  and  the  two  leaves  of 
the  other  door  were  folding.  And 
before  the  tabernacle  there  ivas  a 
porch,  and  upon  the  one  side  they 
set  up  a  pillar,  and  upon  the  other 
side  they  set  up  a  pillar,  even  like 
the  pillars  of  Boaz  and  Jachin. 

8.  And  the  base  of  the  pillars  was 
curiously  ornamented  with  carved 
work  and  with  carbuncles  and  pome¬ 
granates  and  Quincy  granite,  and 
upon  the  top  of  the  pillars  was  there 


checkered  work  ;  so  was  the  work  of 
the  pillars  finished. 

9.  And  there  was  a  court  within, 
in  an  upper  chamber,  wherein  were 
stored  divers  precious  stones — the 
topaz,  jacinth,  amethyst,  jasper,  sap¬ 
phire  and  Ananias,  the  sardius  and 
sardines,  beryls,  chryso-beryls,  and 
half-beryls. 

10.  And  there  were  also  in  the 
chamber  lizards,  snakes,  and  scorpi¬ 
ons,  and  every  manner  of  creeping 
thing  after  his  kind. 

11.  Andover  against  this  cham¬ 
ber  there  was  another  chamber, 
wherein  were  the  bowls  and  the  snuff¬ 
ers  and  the  golden  candlesticks,  and 
the  air-pumps  and  the  brazen  censers, 
of  \%6o,  and  the  electrical  machines, 
and  the  pots  and  the  shovels  and  the 
basons. 

12.  And  the  roof  was  overlaid 
with  precious  stones.  Round  the 
roof  were  railings  of  fretted  work, 
and  on  the  top  thereof  was  a  tower, 
wherein  watchmen  might  stand  con¬ 
tinually  night  and  day,  to  cry  aloud 
if  peradventure  aught  unclean  drew 
nigh  the  tabernacle. 

13.  And from  the  tower  were  hung 
two  flags,  diverse  from  the  flags  in 
which  Moses  was  laid  by  the  river^s 
brink. 

14.  And  in  the  court  before  the 
tabernacle  there  was  a  dial,  like  the 
dial  of  Ahaz,  on  which  the  shadow  of 


CHRONICLES. 


49 


15.  And  the  ivalks  in  the  court 
were  laid  with  brick,  made  without 
straw,  and  daubed  ivith  untempered 
mortar. 

1 6.  But  many  chief  of  the  fathers, 

who  were  ancient  men,  that  had  seen 
the  first  house,  when  the  foundation 
of  this  house  was  laid  before  their 
eyes,  wept  with  a  loud  voice,  and 
many  shouted  aloud  for  joy,  that  the 
saying  of  the  prophet  Ezra  might  be 
fulfilled.  , 

17.  And  the  people  gathered  to¬ 
gether,  with  songs  and  dances,  and 
with  timbrels,  sackbuts,  psalteries, 
and  instruments  of  ten  strings,  and 
made  sweet  mdody. 

18.  Then  they  killed  the  young 
lamb  and  the  fatting,  and  prepared 
a  feast,  and  ate,  drank,  and  made 
merry,  and  there  was  joy  and  glad¬ 
ness  throughout  all  the  land. 

19.  And  Elihu  sat  in  the  taber¬ 
nacle,  and  called  before  him  the 
children  of  the  people  by  a  tinkling 
cymbal,  giving  them  good  counsel 
and  wise  precepts. 

20.  And  the  children  hearkened 
unto  his  sayings,  to  give  heed  to  his 
counsels,  and  his  name  waxed  mighty 
among  his  fellows,  and  they  brought 
him  shekels  of  silver  and  gold,  and 
spices,  and  frankincense  and  myrrh, 
and  changes  of  raiment.  So  that, 

4 


in  all  the  land  of  Gilead,  there  was 
no  tabernacle  like  this. 


Chapter  V. 

The  advent  of  a  certain  itinerant  Phy¬ 
sician  to  the  Halls  of  the  Academy 
in  1861,  and  the  mystery  of  his 
translation  and  departure. 

1.  Now  it  came  to  pass  that  there 
was  a  certain  physician  who  dwelt 
in  the  land  of  Philadelphia,  and  he 
was  called  Benjazer,  which  is  the 
son  of  Glee. 

2.  And  his  substance  was  a  thou¬ 
sand  camels  and  dromedaries,  and 
ten  thousand  man  servants  and  maid 
servants.  And  of  crimson  and 
blue,  and  purple  and  gold,  and 
silver  and  brass,  he  had  great  abun¬ 
dance. 

3 .  Now  Benj azer  murmured  with¬ 
in  himself,  saying :  ‘'Is  ther^e  no 
balm  in  Gilead,  no  kind  physician 
there  ?  Verily,  thither  will  I  go, 
that  I  may  work  gi'eat  deeds  in  the 
land,  and  may  return  to  mine  own 
house  laden  with  measures  of  wheat, 
and  measures  of  barley,  and  stores 
of  corn,  and  wine,  and  oil,  that  my 
wealth  may  be  increased.'’^ 

4.  Then  he  bade  his  servants  that 
they  should  make  ready  his  chariot 
and  horses,  and  scrip,  and  two  coats, 
and  rich  apparel,  and  he  departed 
to  the  land  of  Gilead. 


50 


CHRONICLES. 


5.  Now  ichen  the  inhabitants  of 
the  land  saw  his  coming,  they  great¬ 
ly  wondered,  for  his  driving  was 
like  the  driving  of  Jehu,  the  son  of 
Nimshi,  and  they  spake  one  to 
another,  saying  :  “  What  manner  of 
man  is  this  ?  ” 

6.  Then  Benjazer  answered,  and 
said  :  “  The  voice  of  one  crying  in 
the  ivilderness.  Lo  /  swine's  flesh 
is  an  abomination  unto  me.  Thou 
shalt  not  eat  of  the  unclean  thing." 

7.  And  he  went  up  into  the  taber¬ 
nacle  of  Elihu,  and  set  up  graven 
images,  and  manikins,  and  dry 
bones,  and  jaw-bones,  and  the  people 
bowed  down  before  them. 

8.  And  in  his  teachings  he  told 
what  miraculous  deeds  he  had  done 
throughout  all  the  region  ;  how  he 
had  healed  the  lame,  and  the  halt, 
and  the  mark-time,  and  the  blind. 
Many  lepers,  also,  had  he  cleansed, 
and  had  cast  out  divers  unclean 
spirits. 

9.  And  some  said  among  them¬ 
selves  :  Surely  this  is  Elias."  But 
others  said  :  ‘‘Nay,  he  seeketh  after 
the  prophets." 

10.  And  Benjazer  was  a  man  of 
great  stature,  six  cubits  and  a  span  ; 
and  upon  his  feet  he  had  six  toes 
and  upwards  ;  and  upon  his  hands 
six  fingers  and  upwards.  And  his 


Indian  clubs  were  like  a  weaver's 
beam,  and  the  weight  thereof  was  one 
hundred  shekels  of  iron. 

1 1 .  And  many  inhabitants  of 
Gilead  drew  nigh  unto  his  counsels, 
and  sought  to  touch  the  hem  of  his 
garments,  that  diseases  might  depart 
out  of  them. 

1 2.  And  a  certain  man  sought  to 
anoint  him  with  an  alabaster  box  of 
precious  ointment — which  is  called 
Hardy's  Salve — saying :  “  Lo  !  mas¬ 
ter,  here  is  medicine  to  lend.  Use 
it  here  at  my  expense,  without  mon¬ 
ey  and  without  price." 

13.  But  he  spake  to  them  all,  say¬ 
ing  :  “Except  ye  cast  swine's  flesh  to 
the  dogs,  it  shall  be  more  tolerable for 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  than  for 
you." 

14.  And  they  marvelled  at  his 
doctrine. 

1 5.  Now,  after  he  had  tarried  in 
Gilead  many  days,  he  commanded 
his  servant  Gehazi  that  he  should 
make  ready  his  chariot  and  horses, 
to  depart  on  a  long  journey. 

1 6.  And  the  people  were  afflicted 
because  of  his  departure,  and  cried  : 
“  Ichabod,  Ichabod,  My  glory  is 
going  to  leave  town." 

17.  But  he  took  compassion  on 
them,  and  comforted  them,  saying  : 


CHRONICLES. 


51 


“  Yet  a  little  time,  and  ye  shall  again 
see  me.”  Then  straightway  he  gird¬ 
ed  up  his  loins,  and  departed,  he 
and  his  servant  Gehazi. 

18.  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they 
journeyed  on  beyond  Tadmor  in  the 
wilderness — which  is  Mason — that 
they  came  to  a  place  called  Beth- 
Hebron,  which  is,  by  interpretation, 
“  The  Slides,”  near  the  king^s  high¬ 
way. 

19.  And  there  arose  a  mighty 
whirlwind,  that  tempestuously  tossed 
the  chariot,  and  Gehazi  was  stricken 
down  to  the  earth,  and  hid  his  face 
with  fear  and  trembling. 

20.  But  Benjazer  was  taken  up 
into  the  clouds,  ivith  his  chariot  and 
horses,  and  no  man  saw  his  face 
upon  earth  any  more. 

21.  And  Gehazi  sought,  if  per  ad¬ 
venture  Benjazer’’ s  mantle  had  fallen 
upon  him,  but  found  nothing.  Then 
he  arose,  and  went  his  way,  and  told 
of  the  things  which  he  had  seen. 

22.  Now  there  were  certain  Gen¬ 
tiles,  who  mocked  him  and  laughed 
him  to  scorn,  saying  :  “  Verily,  this 
man  is  full  of  new  wine,  for  we  know 
that  Benjazer  departed  to  the  land  of 
Cincinnati,  preaching  his  strange 
doctrines,  and  raised  a  tumult  and 
an  uproar  among  the  people.” 


23.  And  after  they  had  beaten  him 
with  rods,  and  stoned  him  with 
stones,  they  hanged  him  upon  a  tree 
between  two  legs  of  bacon,  one  upon 
his  right  hand,  and  the  other  upon 
his  left. 

24.  But  the  Gileadites  said :  “Nay, 
Gehazi  speaketh  truly,  for  Benjazer 
is  certainly  departed  from  among 
us,  and  his  face  shall  be  seen  no 
more  of  men.” 

25.  And  they  mourned  greatly  for 
Benjazer  ;  and  his  marvellous  deeds, 
are  they  not  told  in  the  land  of  Gil¬ 
ead  even  unto  this  day  ? 


Chapter  VI. 

The  prosperous  reign  of  Elihu,  and 
the  sound  of  another  War  in  the 
Land.  The  Prophet  foretelleth  the 
future  glory  of  the  Academy. 

1.  But  Elihu  still  ruled  in  the 
tabernacle,  and  was  prospered,  and 
taught  wisdom  to  a  great  multitude  ; 
and  among  them  were  many  daugh¬ 
ters  of  the  land,  damsels  comely  to 
look  upon.  More  to  be  desired  were 
they  than  gold,  yea,  than  much 
fine  gold;  sweeter  also  than  honey 
and  the  honey-comb. 

2.  And  the  young  men  round 
about  cried  out  with  one  accord : 
“Consider  the  courts  of  Elihu.  How 


52 


CHRONICLES. 


amiable  are  his  tabernacles!  There 
are  none  like  ihemP 

3.  And  they  also  drew  nigh,  and 
listened  to  his  teachings,  and  were 
filled  with  all  manner  of  wisdom, 
and  spake  in  unknown  tongues,  that 
were  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block, 
and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness. 

4.  But  it  came  to  pass,  after  a 
season,  that  there  was  again  war  and 
contention  in  the  land  ;  for  the  child¬ 
ren  of  the  North  said :  ^^Have  we 
not  Abraham  to  our  father?  Go, 
then,  and  do  his  commandments!^ 

5.  But  the  children  of  the  South 
mocked  them  and  railed  at  them,  and 
gathered  themselves  together  by  thou¬ 
sands,  and  tens  of  thousands,  and 
hundreds  of  thousands,  and  smote 
the  land  with  fire  and  sword. 

6.  And  the  children  of  the  North 
hasted  and  went  down  to  the  conflict, 
and  among  them  were  many  from 
the  land  of  Gilead,  even  children  of 
the  tabernacle,  men  of  might  and  men 
of  war,  fit  for  the  battle,  that  could 
handle  the  shield  and  buckler ; 
whose  faces  were  like  the  faces  of 
lions,  and  were  as  swift  as  the  roes 
upon  the  mountains. 

7.  And  they  girded  on  their  arm¬ 
or,  even  the  glittering  spear  and  the 
sword,  and  were  terrible  as  an  army 
with  banners. 


8.  And  they  said  one  to  another  : 
^'Gilead  is  mine,  and  Manasseh  shall 
be  mine.^’ 

9.  A7id  they  trembled  not  at  the 
sound  of  the  trumpets,  the  thunder 
of  the  captains  and  the  shouting,  and 
they  fought  from  the  rising  of  the 
sun  to  the  going  down  thereof. 

1  o.  And,  lo,  even  now  their  armor 
is  not  laid  aside,  and  even  now  can 
we  hear  the  trampling  of  the  chariots 
and  the  horsemen;  and  the  mid¬ 
night  sky  is  red  with  the  glare  of  the 
battle. 

11.  But  we  remembered,  how  in 
the  days  of  old  stood  Bhineas,  the 
son  of  Eleazar,  the  son  of  Aaron,  be¬ 
fore  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant,  say¬ 
ing:  “Shall  I  yet  again  go  up  to 
battle  against  the  children  of  Benja¬ 
min  my  brother,  or  shall  I  cease 

12.  And  the  Lord  said:  “  Go  up, 
for  to-morrow  I  will  deliver  them 
into  thine  hand.” 

13.  And  we  were  comforted,  and 
bade  our  children  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  He  who  led  his  people  with  a 
pillar  of  fire  by  night  and  a  pillar 
of  cloud  by  day,  would  not  forsake 
Its  in  this  our  trouble,  but  would  be 
our  rock  and  our  strong  fortress,  and 
a  shade  upon  our  right  hand. 

14.  ^  But  the  eyes  of  the  prophet 
Benammi  wax  dim.  Yet  he  seeth, 


CHRONICLES. 


53 


an  if  in  a  vision,  that  the  land  of 
Gilead  shall  again  flow  with  milk  and 
honey  ;  that  its  garners  shall  he  full 
to  overflowing  ; 

15.  That  this  tabernaele  shall  still 
send  forth  blessings  without  number, 
and  that  our  children  and  our  child¬ 
rens  children  shall  come  up  hither  to 
learn  that  which  is  good,  and  shall  do 
honor  and  reverence  to  those  who,  in 
old  time,  established  this  abode  of 
Wisdom. 

1 6.  Let  them  walk  in  their  integ¬ 


rity,  and  fear  no  evil ;  neither  the 
pestilence  that  walketh  in  darkness, 
nor  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at 
noonday :  till,  beneath  their  own 
vine,  and  among  their  own  kindred, 
the  silver  cord  is  loosed,  and  the 
golden  bowl  is  broken. 

17.  To  thee,  our  foster-mother, 
Hail !  Peace  be  ivithin  thy  walls, 
and  prosperity  within  thy  palaces. 

18.  For  my  brethren  and  com¬ 
panions^  sake,  I  will  now  say : 
^Feace  be  within  thee!’’ 


THE  FIRST  ACADEMY  BUILDING,  ERECTED  IN  1789. 


THE  SECOND  ACADEMY  BUILDING,  ERECTED  IN  1817,  AND  OCCUPIED  UNTIL  1853. 


EXERCISES  OE  THE  DAY. 


In  the  Summer  of  1861,  at  the  request  of  a  number  of  gen¬ 
tlemen,  interested  in  the  welfare  of  New  Ipswich  Appleton 
Academy,  Mr.  Elihu  T.  Quimby,  the  present  Principal  of  the 
school,  issued  a  circular,  of  which  the  following  is  a  portion  : 

“  The  Alumni  of  the  New  IpswiCH  Appleton  Academy  will  meet  at  the 
Academy  Hall,  in  New  Ipswich,  N.  H.,  on  Wednesday,  September  18,  1861, 
for  a  Social  Reunion,  and  to  listen  to  an  Oration  by  B.  B.  Kingsbury,  Esq., 
of  Cambridge,  Mass.  Timothy  Perry,  Esq.,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  has  been 
engaged  as  Poet,  and  Wm.  A.  Preston,  Esq.,  of  New  Ipswich,  as  Chronicler 
for  the  occasion.  A  Dinner  will  be  served  and  Music  provided,  and  no  pains 
will  be  spared  to  make  the  day  pleasant  and  profitable  to  all.” 

In  response  to  this  call,  the  Alumni  and  friends  of  the  Insti¬ 
tution  met  at  the  old  Academy  Hall,  in  New  Ipswich,  N.  H.,  on 
Wednesday,  September  18,  1861,  at  9  o’clock,  A.  M. 

The  meeting  was  called  to  order  by  Rev.  Samuel  Lee,  of 
New  Ipswich,  one  of  the  Board  of  Trustees,  and  the  following 
gentlemen  were  elected  officers  of  the  da^q  viz.: 

Hea.  N.  D.  Gould,  of  Boston,  President, 

Hon.  John  Preston,  of  New  Ipswich,  Vice-President. 

Col.  John  P.  Clark,  of  New  Ipswich,  Marshal. 

Rev.  Perley  B.  Davis,  of  Andover,  Mass.,  Chaplain. 

John  N.  Stearns,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  Scribe. 

A  procession  was  then  formed,  outside,  in  the  following 
order  : 

I. — 3Iarshal  and  his  Aids. 

II. — Brookline  Brass  Band,  under  direction  of  P.  H.  Clark,  Esq.,  of  New  Ipswich. 

III.  — The  escort,  consisting  of  the  present  Students  of  the  Academy. 

IV.  — President,  Vice-President,  and  Chaplain. 

V. — Orator,  Poet,  Chronicler,  and  Scribe. 

VI. — Trustees  of  the  Academy. 

VII.  — Invited  Guests. 

VIII.  — Teachers  {present  and  past)  of  the  Academy. 

IX. — The  Alumni. 


56 


The  procession  moved  through  the  principal  streets  of  the 
village  to  the  large  hall  in  the  new  Academy  building ,  which 
was  soon  filled  to  overflowing  with  the  Alumni  and  friends 
of  the  school,  who,  in  spite  of  the  threatening  aspect  of  the 
weather,  were  present  from  far  and  near,  to  do  honor  to  the 
institution. 

The  venerable  President  of  the  day — Dea.  N.  D.  Gould,  now 
in  his  eightieth  year,  but  still  hale  and  vigorous — upon  calling 
the  assembly  to  order,  spoke  as  follows  : 

“  I  rejoice  to  stand  once  more,  and,  probably,  for  the  last  time,  upon  this 
consecrated  spot,  and  to  meet  this  interesting  assemblage,  in  which  I  see 
intermingled  not  a  few  old  and  familiar  faces.  This  institution  is  dear  to 
me,  and  ought  to  he  dear  to  all  who  have  shared  in  its  benefits  and  privi¬ 
leges.  How  many,  scattered  through  the  land,  can  say  ;  ‘  My  education,  if 
not  my  character,  were  formed  at  New  Ipswich  Academy.’ 

“  I  claim  myself  to  be  one  of  the  Alumni.  Sixty-four  years  ago,  I  spent 
two  weeks  within  the  walls  of  the  building  first  reared  by  the  founders  of 
the  Academy. 

“  With  such  a  limited  education  as  that,  of  course,  you  will  not  expect  me 
to  know  much,  or  to  be  a  very  remarkable  man  in  the  world.  And  as  I 
have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  any  one  else  will  ever  tell  of  my  doings,  I 
will  take  the  liberty  of  using  an  old  man’s  privilege,  to  relate  some  of  them 
myself.  Perhaps  there  is  no  one  now  living,  who  knows  so  much  of  the 
history  of  this  Academy,  as  myself ;  or  who  can  say,  as  I  can,  that  of  the 
thirty-two  original  Founders  of  the  institution — of  the  fifty-five  different  gen¬ 
tlemen,  who  have  from  time  to  time  been  its  Trustees,  and  of  the  twenty- 
eight  Preceptors  who  have  successively  had  its  charge,  1  have  known  every  one, 
and  have  been  intimately  acquainted  with  most  of  them. 

“In  regard  to  my  own  personal  labors  in  life,  it  hardly  becomes  me  to 
speak.  I  will  merely  say,  that,  as  a  result  of  my  before-mentioned  liberal 
education,  I  have  had  before  me,  to  be  taught  in  music,  penmanship,  and 
other  branches,  not  less  than  sixty  thousand  different  pupils.  And  I  con¬ 
sider  it  worthy  of  remark,  that  of  all  my  pupils,  only  one  died  while  under 
my  charge,  and  that  one  was  a  son  of  Frye,  the  converted  Jew,  aged  7  years. 
One  thing  I  can  say,  which,  probably,  few  teachers  in  these  days  of  compe¬ 
tition  can  say  truly — I  never  asked  a  scholar  to  attend  my  teaching,  and 
never  asked  for  a  school. 

“  And  now,  let  me  tell  you,  by  way  of  general  history,  and  as  showing 
the  changes  which  time  is  making,  that  of  those  who  occupied  these  stores, 
workshops,  factories,  and  farms,  when  I  lived  in  this  town  and  took  the 
valuation,  forty-five  years  ago,  very  few  are  now  left.  Not  moi^!  than  four 


57 


or  five  farms  in  town  are  now  occupied  by  the  same  individuals  who  lived 
upon  them  then.  Of  the  male  descendants  of  the  first  settlers  of  New  Ips¬ 
wich,  born  upon  the  original  homesteads,  the  late  Hon.  Nathan  Appleton, 
of  Boston,  was  the  last. 

‘  ‘  But  notwithstanding  the  great  changes  which  time  is  producing,  I  have 
full  confidence  to  believe,  that  the  descendants  of  those  who  nobly  founded 
and  reared  this  institution,  and  all  who  receive  and  appreciate  its  blessings, 
will  hold  on  and  hold  out  in  the  good  work,  and  that  literature,  morality, 
and  religion,  may  prosper  within  these  walls  perpetually.  ’  ’ 

A  select  choir,  under  the  direction  of  P.  H.  Clark,  Esq. — 
Mr.  George  M.  Standish  presiding  at  the  piano — then  sung  the 
following  : 

*  OPENING  HYMN. 

BY  G.  M.  S. 

Oh  Thou,  who  art  o’er  all — 

Our  Lord — Nature’s  great  King — 

Accept  our  feeble  notes  of  praise — 

The  tribute  that  we  bring. 

We  thank  Thee  for  this  day 
On  which  we  congregate. 

Thy  former  watch-care  to  rehearse, 

Thy  mercies  celebrate 

Thou  wert  our  Guide  in  youth. 

Thy  kind  protecting  care 
Was  o’er  us  to  preserve  from  ill, 

And  sin’s  enticing  snare. 

Through  all  the  chance  and  change 
Of  this,  our  mortal  life, 

We  look  to  Thee — our  strong  defense. 

For  succor  in  the  strife. 

Regard  our  humble  prayer. 

Be  present  with  thy  grace, 

And  at  the  last  receive  us  all 
In  Heaven — thy  dwelling-place. 

Prayer  was  then  offered  by  the  Chaplain,  Rev.  P.  B.  Davis, 
followed  by  singing  by  the  choir. 

The  Orator  of  the  day,  B.  B.  Kingsbury,  Esq.,  then  delivered 
an  able  and  interesting  address  upon  “  True  Heroism,”  and  its 
connection  with  the  life  of  the  scholar. 


58 


A  well-written  Poem  was  then  read  by  Timothy  Perry,  Esq., 
which  was  received  with  great  favor  by  the  audience. 

This  was  followed  by  the  quaint  and  amusing  “  Word  of 
the  Prophet  Benammi,”  by  William  A.  Preston,  Esq.,  the 
Chronicler  of  the  occasion.  The  ancient  and  allegorical  style 
in  which  the  Prophet  treated  of  numerous  incidents  in  the 
history  of  the  Academy,  provoked  hearty  merriment  among 
the  most  dignified  in  the  assembly,  and  was  an  excellent  pre¬ 
parative  for  a  good  dinner. 

On  motion  of  Mr.  Quimby,  the  following  resolution  was 
unanimously  adopted  : 

‘  ‘  Resolved^  That  the  thanks  of  the  Alumni  and  friends  of  New  Ipswich 
Appleton  Academy  are  hereby  tendered  to  the  Orator,  Poet,  and  Chronicler, 
for  their  exceedingly  entertaining  productions,  and  that  they  are  requested 
to  furnish  copies  of  the  same  for  publication.” 

The  exercises  in  the  Hall  were  then  brought  to  a  close  by 
singing,  to  the  tune  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  the  following  hymn, 
written  for  the  occasion  : 

CLOSING  HYNTN. 

BY  T.  P. 

Hail  Appleton  Academy  ! 

Friend  of  our  early  days ; 

In  good  or  ill,  we  love  thee  still. 

And  love  to  sing  thy  praise. 

Ho,  Appleton  Academy ! 

A  blessing  on  thy  store. 

Health,  wealth  and  peace,  prosperity, 

Go  with  thee  evermore. 

We  thank  thee  for  thy  fostering  care 
On  us  in  youth  bestowed. 

For  counsel  dear,  and  words  of  cheer, 

Through  learning’s  rugged  road. 

Ho,  Appleton  Academy ! 

A  blessing  on  thy  store, 

Health,  wealth  and  peace,  prosperity,  , 

Be  with  thee  evermore. 

Thy  sons  and  daughters,  scattered  now 
In  regions  far  and  wide. 

Cherish  thy  name,  and  tell  thy  fame 
With  fondness  and  with  pride. 


59 


Ho,  Appleton  Academy ! 

A  blessing  on  thy  store, 

Health,  wealth  and  peace,  prosperity. 

Go  with  thee  evermore. 

Long  may  thy  copious  fountains  flow 
In  streams  that  ever  swell. 

And  many  a  lip  the  nectar  sip. 

As  from  a  living  well. 

Ho,  Appleton  Academy! 

A  blessing  on  thy  store. 

Health,  wealth  and  peace,  prosperity. 

Go  with  thee  evermore. 

The  procession  then  re-formed  in  the  same  order  as  before, 
and  marched  back  to  the  Common  ;  and  after  listening  to 
several  excellent  pieces  from  the  Band,  entered  the  Congrega¬ 
tional  church,  the  Band  occupying  the  choir  gallery,  and  dis¬ 
coursing  short  snatches  of  stirring  music  between  the  various 
exercises  which  followed. 

After  the  audience  were  seated,  and  called  to  order  .by  the 
President,  Mr.  Quimby  stated  that,  owing  to  the  usual  delays 
in  getting  dinner  when  people  have  company,  the  assembly 
would  be  compelled  to  exercise  a  little  patience,  and  console 
themselves  by  reflecting  that,  while  they  were  waiting,  both 
their  dinner  and  their  appetites  were  every  moment  improving. 
In  the  mean  time,  he  would  attempt  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  toast¬ 
master,  by  proposing  several  sentiments  appropriate  to  the 
occasion.  He  announced  the  following  as  the  first  toast  : 

1.  The  Orator  of  the  Day  :  Let  us  all  be  Heroes,  after  Ms  pattern. 

B.  B.  Kingsbury,  Esq.  briefly  responded.  He  said  that  be  Lad  already 
performed  his  share  of  the  exercises,  and  it  was  time  others  should  have  an 
opportunity.  He  alluded  to  some  of  his  many  remembrances  of  the  Acade¬ 
my,  and  closed  by  hoping  that  the  present  occasion,  affording,  as  it  did,  a 
renewed  opportunity  for  kindly  intercourse  between  the  Alumni,  would  he 
productive  of  great  pleasure  to  all  who  were  in  attendance,  and  promote  the 
prosperity  of  the  institution  of  learning,  whose  welfare  we  all  so  earnestly 
desired. 

2.  New  Ipswich  Appleton  Academy  :  The  Mother  of  Poets  as  well  as  Orators. 

Timothy  Perry,  Esq.,  was  called  on  to  respond.  He  excused  himself  by 

saying  that  his  duty  was  already  done.  He  had  bargained  for  the  rhyme. 


60 


and  not  for  the  prose.  He  could  not,  however,  wholly  slight  the  subject 
of  the  sentiment  which  had  just  been  read.  Nothing  makes  a  man  value 
New  England  schools  more  than  to  become  familiar  with  the  schools  of  other 
sections.  He  believed  there  were  no  schools  in  the  world  which  excelled 
those  of  New  England,  in  thoroughness,  and  in  practical,  critical  training. 
He  never  returned  to  his  native  hills  without  feeling  an  increased  apprecia¬ 
tion  of  the  advantages  of  a  New  England  education,  and  an  increased  love 
for  the  home  of  his  youth. 

At  the  present  time,  when  the  country  is  uppermost  in  all  minds,  he  said 
it  was  impossible  to  talk  at  all  without  alluding  to  matters  connected  with 
the  great  struggle  now  going  on  for  the  maintenance  of  the  Government. 

It  was  his  privilege,  the  preceding  Saturday,  to  visit  the  camp  of  the  Third 
New  Hampshire  Eegiment,  at  Hempstead,  L.  I.,  and  to  eat  a  soldier’s  ration 
with  one  of  its  officers — an  Alumnus  of  our  own  Academy. 

Ill  closing,  Mr.  Perry  offered  the  following  sentiment : 

The  Sons  of  New  Ipswich  Appleton  Academy,  now  Fighting  the  Battles 
OP  OUR  Country  :  God  bless  them. 

Mr.  Quimby  said  that,  in  response  to  the  sentiment  offered 
by  Mr.  Perry,  he  would  i;ake  the  liberty  to  read  an  extract 
from  a  private  letter,  which  he  had  lately  received  from  a 
former  student  of  the  Academy — now  a  volunteer,  serving  in 
the  division  of  General  Banks,  on  the  Upper  Potomac  ; 

“  Camp  Boston,  Monocacy  Junction,  ) 
Maryland,  Sept.  6,  1861.  ) 

^‘Honored  Friend:  If  I  mistake  not  the  date,  the  week  after  next  ushers  in 
the  gathering  of  the  Alumni  of  the  Appleton  Academy.  I  cannot  doubt 
but  that  you  will  have  a  good  time  ;  and  I  need  not  tell  you  that  it  would 
give  me  no  little  pleasure  to  be  present.  But  duty  to  my  country  and  to 
the  honor  of  her  flag,  has  called  me  to  arms.  I  deemed  it  my  duty  to 
respond  to  the  call  of  my  country  in  the  hour  of  her  danger.  Our  noble 
flag  has  been  trampled  in  the  dust  :  a  cloud  has  gathered  over  the  Union  : 
dark  treason  has  lifted  its  head. 

“  But  this  glorious  Union  cannot  be  dissolved.  The  freemen  of  the  North 
must  continue  to  gather  around  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  There  must  be  a 
greater  outpouring  of  those  who  love  freedom.  It  cannot  be  denied  but 
that  there  is  danger.  Must  we  succumb  to  the  boastful  South  ?  Never  ! 

“  I,  with  tens  of  thousands  of  the  North,  have  placed  my  life  upon  the 
altar  of  my  country.  And,  although  I  long  to  be  with  those  I  love,  still 
while  the  danger  lasts,  duty  calls  me  here,  and  God  will  protect  and  bless 
the  beloved  ones  at  home. 


61 


“I  would  joy  to  meet  you  and  other  friends  on  the  festive  occasion  of  the 
meeting  of  the  Alumni.  I  shall  be  with  you  in  spirit.  Please  to  give  my 
sincere  regards  to  all  my  friends  and  former  fellow-students.  ^ 

“G.  T.  R.” 

The  Band  struck  up  Hail  Columbia,  amid  the  cheers  of  the 
audience, 

3.  Our  Literary  Institutions:  The  Safeguard  of  our  Freedom. 

William  A.  Preston,  Esq.,  being  called  on  to  respond,  and  being  threat¬ 
ened  with  the  service  of  some  kind  of  a  writ,  unless  he  came  forward,  re¬ 
marked  that,  if  he  was  arrested,  he  could  easily  regain  his  liberty  by  taking 
the  poor  debtor’s  oath — for  he  had  nothing  to  say.  He  had  already  done 
his  duty  for  the  day,  and  after  the  kind  attention  which  they  had  just  given 
him  at  the  Academy  Hall,  he  would  not  further  weary  their  patience.  The 
sentiment  which  had  been  offered  needed  no  remarks  of  his  to  make  it 
good.  A  sufficient  defense  of  its  truth  was  found  in  the  alacrity  with  which 
our  New  England  regiments  had  marched  to  the  seat  of  war,  ready  to  lay 
down  their  lives  for  the  preservation  of  the  freedom  which  our  fathers  had 
bequeathed  us. 

4.  The  Band  :  We  are  always  ready  to  hear  them. 

Responded  to  by  the  Band  playing,  in  excellent  style,  “  Home, 
Sweet  Home.” 

5.  The  President  op  the  Day:  He  represents  the  generation  that  is  passed: 

May  we  emulate  their  virtues. 

Responded  to  by  Deacon  N.  D.  Gould,  who  said,  that  it  was  a  very  usual 
thing  for  men,  when  called  upon  to  make  remarks  in  public,  to  plead  that 
they  were  unaccustomed  to  speaking.  He  could  make  that  plea  himself, 
with  entire  truth,  for  it  was  his  general  custom  to  sign  his  name  to  what  he 
had  to  say.  But  the  circumstances  of  the  occasion,  perhaps,  demanded  that 
he  should  say  a  few  words,  and  he  would  begin  by  boasting.  He  said  that 
few  people  had  made  more  noise  in  the  world  than  he  had  ;  and  what  was 
more,  he  had  always  tried  to  have  all  the  noises  and  sounds  that  he  was  re¬ 
sponsible  for,  as  harmonious  as  possible. 

We  often  hear  of  men  who  have  made  their  mark  in  the  world.  No  one, 
he  said,  had  made  more  marks  than  he  had  ;  but  they  were  mostly  black 
marks.  No  one  had  flourished  more  than  he  had  ;  though  he  was  obliged  to 
confess  that  all  his  flourishing  had  been  done  with  a  pen. 

He  said  he  would  close  by  expressing  the  hope  that  all  the  young  persons 
within  the  hearing  of  his  voice,  if  they  attempt  to  make  a  noise  in  the 


62 


world,  will  see  to  it  that  it  is  harmonious  ;  if  they  try  to  make  marks,  they 
will  make  none  hut  good  ones,  and  that  all  their  flourishes  may  he  done 
with  care. 

At  the  close  of  Deacon  Gould’s  remarks,  the  Band  played 
“  Auld  Lang  Syne.” 

6.  The  Original  Founders  of  the  Academy:  Being  dead,  they  still  live. 

Hon.  John  Preston,  of  New  Ipswich,  responded: 

“  ifr.  President — I  cannot  hope  to  do  justice  to  the  memory  of  those  ex¬ 
cellent  men  who  founded  our  Academy. 

‘  ‘  As  early  as  1787,  when  hut  one  Academy  had  been  established  in  this  State, 
(at  Exeter)  thirty-two  men  of  New  Ipswich,  and  other  towns  in  this  vicinity, 
hound  themselves,  by  mutual  covenants,  to  contribute  their  several  propor¬ 
tions  to  the  support  of  a  school  in  New  Ipswich,  where  the  higher  branches 
of  knowledge  might  be  taught.  In  1789  our  Academy  was  incorporated. 
Some  of  the  founders  had  been  soldiers  in  the  war  of  the  Eevolution.  All 
were  suffering  from  the  embarrassments  occasioned  by  the  expenses  of  the 
war  and  a  depreciated  currency. 

‘  ‘  Many  of  them  were  involved  in  debt ;  yet,  for  the  sake  of  providing  the 
means  of  educating  their  children,  they  increased  those  debts,  and  even 
mortgaged  their  farms,  firmly  convinced  that  they  could  leave  no  legacy  to 
them  so  valuable  as  a  good  education.  All  honor  to  those  noble  men,  who 
were  so  ready  to  assume  pecuniary  obligations,  that  they  might  open  to  the 
youth  of  their  neighborhood  the  paths  of  science.  We  remember  their 
names  and  deeds  with  gratitude. 

“  Some  of  us  who  now  reside  in  town,  rejoice  to  find  in  the  honorable  list 
the  names  of  our  own  ancestors,  who  aided  in  sowing  the  seed  which  has  pro¬ 
duced  such  rich  harvests  of  knowledge  for  their  children  and  grandchildren. 

“  We  who  dwell  in  New  Ipswich  have  especial  reason  to  render  to  those 
men  our  thanks  for  their  labors  and  sacrifices. 

‘  ‘  But  for  the  establishment  of  this  institution,  how  many  of  the  sons  and 
daughters  of  New  Ipswich,  who  have  gone  forth  to  other  States  to  fill  honor¬ 
able  positions,  would  have  been  unable  to  procure  the  means  of  acquiring 
the  education  which  has  been  the  foundation  of  their  usefulness  and  their 
honors.  But  for  this  Academy,  how  many  of  us  now  here  would  have  been 
deprived  of  that  measure  of  education  which  we  now  possess,  because  we  were 
too  poor  to  go  abroad  for  the  rich  sources  of  knowledge,  so  bounteously  pro¬ 
vided  for  us  at  home. 

“I  fear  we  do  not  properly  appreciate  our  educational  privileges.  We 
may  say  of  the  people  of  New  Ipswich,  as  did  the  great  Latin  poet  of  the 
husbandmen  of  his  day  : 


0,  fortunatos  nimium,  sua  si  bona  norint.’ 


63 


Like  the  blessed  light  and  warmth  of  the  sun,  the  pure  air  which  sweeps 
over  our  hills,  the  sparkling  water  which  flows  from  our  mountain  springs — 
all  so  indispensable  to  life,  and  yet  so  richly  provided  for  us  that  we  scarcely 
give  them  a  thought,  so  our  Academy,  which,  from  week  to  week  and  year 
to  year,  sends  forth  intellectual  light  and  heat,  and  water  to  refresh  and  make 
productive  the  “barren  soils  of  ignorance,”  and  creates  an  atmosphere  of 
intelligence  in  our  midst — because  all  these  results  are  obtained  with  so  little 
expense  to  us,  is  in  danger  of  being  forgotten  and  neglected. 

‘  ‘  Sons  and  daughters  of  New  Ipswich !  remember  the  institution  which  your 
fathers  established  in  their  day  of  poverty  and  privation.  Cherish  a  grate¬ 
ful  recollection  of  the  benefits  conferred  by  it  on  yourselves  and  your  chil¬ 
dren.  Make  every  effort  in  your  power  to  advance  its  interests  and  extend 
its  usefulness,  and  thus  testify  how  great  is  your  love  for  the  memory  of 
‘  The  Founders  of  New  Ipswich  Academy.’  ” 

7.  Samuel  Appleton  :  We  remember  him  gratefully  to-day. 

Rev.  Perley  B.  Davis,  replied  : 

“  J//-.  President — I  feel  wholly  incompetent  to  respond  to  the  name  that 
has  just  been  read  in  our  hearing.  It  would  be  more  befitting  that  yourself, 
or  one  much  more  advanced  in  years  than  I  am,  should  speak  to  the  mem¬ 
ory  of  one  so  loved  and  revered  as  was  Mr.  Appleton.  I  never  remember  to 
have  seen  him  but  once.  It  was  once  my  privilege,  when  a  small  boy,  to 
look  upon  his  venerable  face,  and  his  silvery  locks.  I  did  so  with  a  feeling 
almost  of  reverence,  for  I  perceived  that  all  around  me  looked  upon  him  as  a 
great,  and  good  man. 

“The  honorable  gentleman,  who  has  preceded  me  in  remarks,  has  said  that 
we  owe  a  debt  of  unspeakable  gratitude  to  those  who  founded  this  institution 
in  our  midst.  Now,  Sir,  in  Natural  Theology,  the  argument  for  God’s  omni¬ 
potence  is  no  more  conclusive  from  the  act  of  creation  than  from  the  act  of 
preservatim.  Others  created  this  institution,  but  Mr.  Appleton  has  been  fore¬ 
most  in  preserving  it.  We  therefore  ewe  equal  gratitude  to  him  as  to  them. 

“But  we  should  not  only  remember  Mr.  Appleton  as  deserving  of  our 
gratitude ;  we  should  also  remember  him  as  worthy  of  our  imitation.  A  dis¬ 
tinguished  German  poet  has  said,  ‘  We  learn  only  from  those  we  love.’ 

“We  all  love  the  memory  of  Mr.  Appleton  :  we  ought  therefore  to  learn 
the  lesson  which  his  life  teaches.  He  went  forth  from  this  place  ;  and  by  un¬ 
tiring  perseverance,  by  uncompromising  integrity,  and  implicit  reliance  upon 
God,  he  carved  out  his  way  to  fortune  and  to  fame  ;  to  a  fortune  which  has 
blessed  the  world,  and  to  a  fame  which  Christian  philanthropy  will  ever  de¬ 
light  to  honor.  Students  in  this  Academy,  while  they  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his 
munificence,  ought  to  find  the  purpose  strengthening  within  them  to  go 
forth  and  follow  in  his  footsteps.  Especially  in  this  hour  of  our  country’s 
need  do  we  want  men  firm  to  principle  and  truth .  I  have  thought  that  the 


64 


bust  of  Mr.  Appleton  in  yonder  hall,  from  which  we  have  just  come,  speaks 
to  us  to-day  ;  and  that  those  marble  lips  would  part,  and  those  marble  eyes 
would  kindle,  to  express  a  holy  indignation,  if  any  one  who  has  been  benefited 
by  his  contributions  should  now  prove  recreant  in  devotion  to  country  and  to 
freedom. 

“I  close  with  the  following  sentiment  :  May  all  who  have  been  been 
benefited  by  Samuel  Appleton’s  munificence,  be  benefited  also  by  imitating  his 
example.” 

The  Toast-Master  then  announced  that  the  next  reg'ular 
toast  was  one  to  which  all  were  expected  to  respond  by  pro¬ 
ceeding  to  the  vestry  of  the  church  and  doing  ample  justice 
to  whatever  they  might  find  upon  the  tables.  The  sentiment 
was  as  follows  : 

8.  Dinner  is  ready. 

The  response  to  this  sentiment  was  unanimous  and  hearty  ; 
and  the  five  tables— each  extending  the  entire  length  of  the 
large  vestry  room — were  found  inadequate  to  seat  all  the 
friends  of  the  institution  who  had  come  to  her  banquet. 

After  all  who  could  be  accommodated  were  seated,  they 
were  called  to  order  by  the  President,  and  a  blessing  was  in¬ 
voked  by  the  Chaplain,  Kev.  P.  B.  Davis. 

Knives,  forks,  and  spoons  were  soon  in  universal  requisition, 
and  it  did  not  take  long  for  the  company  to  ascertain,  that  if 
seats  were  scarce,  there  was  nothing  else  lacking.  A  better 
dinner  never  tempted  a  man^s  appetite  ;  and  by  numerous 
private  inquiries  as  to  who  was  responsible  for  so  superb  an 
entertainment,  it  was  ascertained  that  the  arrangements  had 
been  made  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  E.  T.  Quimby,  and  under 
the  immediate  supervision  of  E.  F.  Fox,  Esq.,  and  lady.  The 
tables  were  also  indebted  to  numerous  contributions  from  the 
generous  ladies  of  New  Ipswich,  who  are  noted  for  under¬ 
standing  what  constitutes  a  good  dinner. 

After  the  company  had  exhausted  their  appetites  (but  not 
the  dishes)  it  was  discovered — greatly  to  the  chagrin  of  the 
Toast-Master — that  nobody  was  in  a  condition  to  respond  to 
a  sentiment.  This  strange  effect  was  the  more  singular  from 


65 


the  fact  that  no  drink  was  served  stronger  than  tea  and 
coffee  ;  and  must  be  attributable  solely  to  the  excellent  quali¬ 
ty  of  the  turkeys,  pies,  cakes,  watermelons,  et  hoc  genus  omne, 
over  which  it  was  absolutely  impossible  to  be  strictl}^  tem¬ 
perate. 

‘‘Under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,”  it  was  unani¬ 
mously  voted  to  adjourn  all  further  exercises  to  the  Social 
Levee,  which  was  to  be  held  at  the  New  Academy  Hall  in  the 
evening. 


THE  LEVEE. 

In  the  evening,  the  large  hall  in  the  new  Academy,  and  in 
fact  nearly  all  the  other  rooms  in  the  building,  were  thrown 
open  for  a  social  levee. 

The  day  had  been  lowering,  but  the  evening  was  clear  and 
beautiful.  The  moon,  then  just  at  its  full,  rose  up  over  the 
eastern  hills  in  majestic  brightness  ;  and  the  stirring  notes  of 
the  Band,  as  they  rung  out  of  the  open  windows  of  the  hall, 
and  echoed  with  a  mellow  cadence  through  the  quiet  village, 
seemed  like  some  witching  fairy-music  issuing  from  the  moon¬ 
lit  trees. 

The  evening  realized  the  object  of  that  part  of  the  pro¬ 
gramme  designated  in  the  call  as  a  “  Social  Reunion”  of  the 
Alumni.  Schoolmates  met  who  had  not  seen  each  other  for 
many,  many  years,  and  the  warm  pressure  of  the  hand,  the 
joyous  smile  of  the  face,  and  the  bright  sparkle  of  the  eye, 
told  of  unforgotten  and  undiminished  friendships.  A  thousand 
themes  of  old  times  and  new  times  filled  up  the  hours  with 
animated  conversation,  and  there  was  no  one  in  the  large 
company  but  that  seemed  to  heartily  enjoy  the  occasion. 
Mingled  with  the  rest,  were  the  present  students  of  the  Aca¬ 
demy,  whose  intellectual  countenances  and  gentlemanly  and 
lady-like  deportment  prophesied  that  they  would  never  disgrace 
the  reputation  of  their  alma  mater. 

5 


66 


In  the  course  of  the  evening,  the  President  called  the  as¬ 
sembly  to  order,  for  the  purpose  of  listening  to  the  remaining 
exercises,  which  had  been  postponed  in  the  afternoon. 

The  ninth  toast  was  announced,  as  follows  : 

9.  The  Alumni  :  Their  name  is  Legion. 

John  N.  Stearns,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  responded  : 

“  il/r.  President,  and  friends:  It  was  your  choice  that  I  should  he  the  Scribe 
of  the  day,  to  take  down  the  sayings  of  others — and  it  would  not  be  right 
for  you  to  expect  me  to  say  anything  myself.  But  my  heart  is  too  full  this 
evening  to  allow  me  wholly  to  decline  the  invitation  to  respond  to  the  sen¬ 
timent  just  announced.  I  feel,  to-day,  that  we  are  graduates  of  no  mean 
Academy.  We  may  well  be  proud  of  the  institution  within  whose  walls  we 
received  our  education,  and  of  all  the  memories  that  cluster  round  the  very 
mention  of  its  name.  How  past  associations  will  crowd  the  mind  upon  a 
time  like  this  !  The  Alumni  of  New  Ipswich  Academy — who  can  number 
them— who  can  trace  their  path  in  life — who  can  speak  for  them  ?  ‘  Their 

name  is  legion,’  and  they  are  scattered  all  over  the  land,  and  in  every  clime 
under  the  sun.  A  mighty  army  for  good  or  evil — enough  to  have  changed 
the  fortunes  of  the  day  at  Bull  Bun — enough,  if  rightly  directed,  to  decide 
many  a  battle  in  favor  of  good  against  evil,  right  against  wrong,  liberty 
against  despotism  ! 

“  This  Academy  has  been  in  operation  seventy-two  years,  during  which 
time  six  or  seven  thousand  pupils  have  received  the  benefits  of  its  tuition. 

“It  was  my  privilege  to  attend,  more  or  less  constantly,  during  eight 
successive  years,  whose  recollections  are  among  the  pleasantest  of  my  life. 
I  well  remember,  now,  the  cheerful  faces  gathered  within  those  walls,  and 
how  we  combined  hard  study,  and  the  writing  of  harder  compositions,  with 
a  little  mischief  now  and  then.  We  had  both  instruction  and  amusement. 
Our  teacher  told  us  that  instruction  was  the  most  important ;  but  sometimes 
I  used  to  think  amusement  got  the  better  of  instruction.  The  muffled  hell 
— sheets  pinned  together — ropes  stretched  at  night  across  the  path  of  the 
returning  gallant  to  trip  his  unwary  feet — baskets  full  of  old  tinware  ready 
to  tip  over  at  the  suggestion  of  a  string  tied  to  the  door — the  Saturday  walk 
to  old  Whittemore  Hill,  or  some  other  chosen  spot — the  annual  parting  festival 
at  Union  Hall — these  are  among  the  memories  that  spring  up  when  I  think 
of  my  Academy  school-days  ;  and  the  recollection  of  months  of  hard  study 
and  close  application  is  a  no  less  pleasant  theme. 

“The  glory  of  New  England  is  not  her  noble  hills  nor  her  pleasant 
villages,  but  her  schools,  and  the  general  intelligence  and  virtue  of  her 
people.  And  her  sons  are  scattered  all  over  the  land,  in  every  State  of  the 
Union,  carrying  with  them  a  love  of  New  England  institutions,  shaping 


G7 


public  opinion,  moulding  society,  and  making  their  mark  wherever  they  go. 
Many  of  them,  thank  God,  are  in  the  army  of  the  Union,  fighting  for  the 
same  principles  for  which  their  fathers  fought,  and  for  the  establishment  of 
which  New  England  itself  was  first  sought  out  and  settled.  The  gallant 
Sixth  Massachusetts  Regiment — the  first  to  march  to  the  defense  of  Washing¬ 
ton — by  its  alacrity  and  bravery,  won  golden  plaudits  from  those  who  were 
accustomed  to  sneer  at  New  England,  and  swept  before  it  every  vestige  of 
sectional  prejudice.  And  to-day  the  sturdy  New  England  man,  the  brave 
New  Yorker,  and  the  daring  Western  volunteer  are  standing  side  by  side, 
fighting  for  all  that  is  dear  to  us  and  our  children.  And  they  shall  conquer. 
To  be  sure,  the  clouds  are  dark  at  present,  but  I  see  ‘  Hope  ’  written  on 
them.  ‘  I  do  not  remember  a  night  so  dark  as  to  have  hindered  the  coming 
day,  nor  a  storm  so  furious  and  dreadful  as  to  prevent  the  return  of  a  warm 
sunshine  and  a  cheerful  sky.’  All  is  not  lost.  War  is  not  the  worst  calam¬ 
ity  that  can  befall  a  nation.  We  are  commanded  to  be  first  then  peace¬ 
able.  We  are  bound  to  transmit  to  posterity  our  schools  and  all  our  free 
institutions.  Let  us  lay  our  live*  upon  the  altar  of  our  country,  and  if  we 
fall,  thank  God  that  we  were  found  worthy  to  be  a  sacrifice  in  so  holy  a 
cause.  I  have  great  faith  that  all  will  yet  be  well  with  our  country — that 
the  principles  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  will  shine  with  a  brighter  lustre 
and  a  clearer  light  when  the  smoke  of  battle  shall  be  over,  and  the  clash  of 
arms  shall  be  hushed  in  the  permanent  triumph  of  truth  and  right. 

‘  ‘  In  the  act  of  incorporation  of  the  Academy,  passed  by  the  Legislature 
of  New  Hampshire  in  1789,  I  find  that  the  institution  was  founded  ‘  for  the 
purpose  of  promoting  piety  and  virtue.’  This  is  the  true  foundation  of  all 
our  schools  and  of  all  our  education. 

“  A  son  of  one  of  our  New  England  men  had  something  of  this  idea  in  his 
head  when,  inspired  by  the  enthusiasm  created  by  the  departure  of  so  many 
of  our  brave  and  loyal  men,  to  fight  for  God  and  freedom,  he  got  together 
a  little  company  of  his  mates,  marched  and  countermarched  them  to  the 
sound  of  an  old  tin  pan,  and  then  made  them  all  take  the  ‘  oath  of  alle¬ 
giance.’  When  asked  how  he  administered  the  oath,  the  young  captain 
replied  that  he  made  them  all  hold  up  their  right  hands  and  shout  ‘  Glory 
to  God  !’  Let  us  all  hold  up  our  right  hands,  and  swear  ‘by  the  Eternal  ’ 
that  the  Union  must  and  shall  be  preserved  ;  that  these  institutions  of  learn¬ 
ing  shall  be  preserved,  and  transmitted  unsullied  to  our  children  and  our 
children’s  children,  as  the  most  precious  legacy  we  could  possibly  bequeath 
to  posterity.” 

10.  The  Trustees  of  the  Academy  :  A  sacred  charge  they  have  to  keep. 

Rev.  Samuel  Lee,  of  New  Ipswich,  replied  : 

“  3fr.  President — The  sentiment  just  announced  presents  to  us  our  Academy 
in  a  new  relation.  We  have  been  viewing  it  as  the  source  of  blessings  to  a 


6S 


great  number,  whose  characters  have  been  formed  under  its  influence.  We 
now  contemplate  it  as  the  object  of  attention  and  care  to  a  Board  of  Trus¬ 
tees.  Kesponsibility  and  honor  are  predicated  of  their  official  capacity. 

‘  ‘  Their  agency  is  responsible  and  honorable,  as  having  its  results  in  and 
through  the  medium  of  an  educational  institution. 

“  Education  is  a  word  of  broadest  import.  It  is,  to  man,  the  work  of  life. 
To  form  a  character  is  to  lay  the  basis  upon  which  the  experience  of  an  end¬ 
less  future  is  to  rest.  This  world  is  one  vast  school,  a  Common  School,  and 
a  Primary  Department  only — as  all  who  make  good  'proficiency  here,  by  and 
by,  will  pass  to  a  higher  department.  For  this  the  world  was  made.  For 
this  the  divine  providence  is  administered — each  element  of  which  presents 
to  us  a  lesson  to  he  learned.  So  that,  to  this  great  educational  institution, 
God  is  the  Teacher  ;  over  it,  and  in  the  care  of  it,  God  is  Trustee. 

“  Our  Academy  is  a  department  of  this  great  institution.  Its  primary 
object  is  intellectual  culture.  Of  the  importance  of  such  culture,  too  much 
cannot  be  said. 

“It  develops  ih.Q  power  of  the  man.  What  we  call  physical  power  or 
strength,  is  only  the  energy  of  mind.  And  the  stronger  that  mind,  so  that 
the  material  organization  be  correspondingly  cultivated,  the  greater  the 
physical  capabilities  of  the  man.  But  it  is  education  that  gives  strength  to 
the  mind. 

‘  ‘  Such  culture  is  presupposed  in  the  vigorous  exercise  of  the  higher 
departments  of  the  affectional.  The  higher  and  nobler  affections  depend 
upon  a  perception  of  the  truths  that  belong  to  their  respective  spheres.  But 
the  extent  and  the  accuracy  of  the  mind’s  perception  of  these  truths  depend 
upon  the  degree  of  its  intellectual  culture.  Apply  this  thought  to  the  ex¬ 
perience  of  man  in  the  departments,  for  instance,  of  the  aesthetic,  the 
social,  the  moral,  the  religious. 

“Intellectual  culture  preserves  from  evil  and  from  sin.  I  know,  indeed, 
that  defect  in  the  moral  prepares  the  way  for  defect  in  the  intellectual.  But 
the  converse  of  this  is  equally  true,  and  equally  important  to  be  known. 
The  longer  I  live,  the  greater  my  charity.  The  ‘  sins  of  ignorance  ’  are 
multitudinous.  The  dwellers  in  our  sunny  South,  now  in  rebellion  against 
their  country,  are,  most  of  them,  honest.  They  have  been  deceived.  Let 
now  the  masses  at  the  South  receive  from  schools  and  academies  what  New 
England  has  received,  and  they  would  turn  away  in  disgust  from  such  men 
as  Davis,  and  Stephens,  and  Wigeall,  and  their  diabolical  associates.  The 
wretched  fallacy  of  their  pretenses  would  be  seen  at  a  glance.  The  same 
might  be  said,  in  substance,  of  much  of  the  skepticism  of  our  day  on  the 
great  subject  of  religion. 

“  But  I  am  trespassing  upon  your  time.  Let  me  just  add,  that  intellectual 
culture  will  give  a  personal  advantage  in  the  career  of  the  future  world — that 
Higher  Department  of  which  this  world  is  the  Primary.  He  of  highest  intel- 


69 


lectiial  culture,  on  entering  that  world,  will  outstrip  all  others.  That  career 
of  the  future  world  involves  the  knowledge  of  facts  and  their  philosophy. 
In  no  other  way  can  we  appreciate  Grod’s  character,  or  government,  or  grace  ; 
in  no  other  way  act  rightly  for  the  glory  of  God,  or  the  good  of  his  crea¬ 
tures. 

“  0,  the  intellectual  processes  of  heaven!  The  curiosity  of  the  human 
mind  will  never  tire.  Its  demands  will  he  imperative  and  ceaseless.  It 
mmt  know  all  things — if  eternity  is  long  enough.  And  the  same  law  of 
acquisition  and  cumulative  power  will  obtain  there  as  here.  What  shall  he 
its  high  and  holy  executive  power,  some  day  ;  and  yet  beyond — what  ?  And 
what  a  field  of  investigation  I  broad  as  the  universe.  ‘  All  thing?  are 
yours.’  Not  a  planet,  nor  a  fact  of  its  history  or  condition,  nor  a  laAv  of 
its  philosophy,  but  is  yours,  in  an  ownership  present  or  prospective. 

“  Surely  there  is  responsibility  and  there  is  honor  attendant  upon  the 
supervision  and  care  of  an  institution  for  intellectual  culture  ;  and,  espe¬ 
cially,  of  one  whose  power  for  good  is  as  great  as  we  must  infer  from  what  we 
see  this  day.  May  its  Trustees  be  guided  by  the  wisdom  that  is  from  above  ; 
and  may  this  institution  be  in  the  hands  of  good  men  and  true,  through  all 
coming  time.” 

In  taking  his  seat,  Mr.  Lee  offered  the  following  senti¬ 
ment  : 

The  Teachers  of  New  Ipswich  Appleton  Academy  :  They  have  performed  a 
noble  work, 

E.  T.  Quimby,  Esq.,  the  present  Principal  of  the  Academy, 
on  being  called  on  to  respond,  said  : 

It  would  not  be  modest  for  him  to  allude  particularly  to  himself ;  but 
so  far  as  the  Teachers  of  the  school,  taken  in  the  aggregate  since  the  founda¬ 
tion  of  the  institution,  were  concerned,  the  sentiment  undoubtedly  expressed 
the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth.  It  was  proverbial 
that  teachers  were  always  right — at  least  in  their  own  opinion  ;  and  it  would 
be  very  easy  for  the  audience  to  imagine  just  what  he  would  say,  if  he  should 
make  a  long  speech  to  magnify  his  ofiice. 

But  brevity  was  the  soul  of  wit ;  and  especially  as  there  were  one  or  two 
more  Clergymen  yet  to  speak — who  were  as  noted  for  preaching  long  ser¬ 
mons,  as  Teachers  were  for  being  egotistical — he  would  set  the  excellent 
example  of  a  short  speech,  and  close  by  offering  the  next  sentiment  : 

11.  The  Strangers,  not  Alumni — whom  we  welcome  with  us  this  day. 

Rev.  H.  Merrill,  of  Salisbury,  N.  H.,  responded  : 

“  It  is  not  my  favored  lot  to  be  an  Alumnus  of  this  institution.  But  will 
ye  add  to  the  regrets  of  this  hour  by  calling  me  ‘  Stranger  ?’  I  thank  ye 


70 


not  for  teaching  me  that  word,  nor  will  I  learn  it.  Though  indeed  I  did  feel 
somewhat  like  one,  while  staying,  over  two  days,  in  anticipation  of  these 
scenes.  But,  the  day  having  come,  and  I  had  met  you,  the  stranger’s  feeling 
gave  way  to  the  joys  of  a  familiar  friend  '■  propinquus.’’  True,  in  the  con- 
gression  of  outward  form,  we  have  never  met ;  but  in  the  realm  of  the  spirit¬ 
ual  and  intellectual,  we  have  met — how  often  !  Our  hearts  have  met  and 
heat  with  common  joys  and  sorrows,  sympathies  and  aims.  Methinks,  if  I 
could  tread  the  paths  where  Plato  once  walked,  and  talked  with  his  visible 
disciples,  or  where  Aristotle,  eloquent,  learned,  fruitful  of  thought,  dis¬ 
coursed  with  wisdom  beyond  his  times — or  where  the  most  enlightened  of 
the  jfthenians  hung  with  delight  on  the  lips  of  Socrates — or  where  Seneca,  in 
a  corrupt  age,  discoursed  of  moral  rectitude  and  purity  ;  even  there,  me¬ 
thinks,  I  should  feel  like  a  younger  brother,  rather  than  a  stranger.  Aye, 
with  that  mute  marble  that  looks  down  upon  us  to-night  so  serenely 
(the  marble  bust  of  Appleton,  in  the  Academy  Hall),  I  can  seem  to  feel 
the  heating  of  heart  to  heart.  And  as  to  you.  Sir  (pointing  to  the  President, 
Deacon  Gould,  author  of  many  excellent  musical  works),  I  am  no  stranger. 
My  soul,  when  a  mere  boy,  communed  with  you  in  those  touching  melodies, 
and  those  exquisite  combinations  of  harmony  which  have  gone  forth  from 
you  to  soothe  and  to  cheer,  to  refine  and  to  bless. 

‘  Fading,  still  fading,  the  last  beam  is  shining — 

Father  in  heaven,  the  day  is  declining.’ 

Long  may  that  last  beam  shine,  lingering  on  you.  ‘  Serus  redeas  in  ccelo.’ 

“  No,  Sir,  we  are  not  strangers.  There  is  a  realm  where  the  intellect  and  the 
heart  constitute  citizenship,  acquaintance,  friendship,  aye,  relationship.  In 
this  realm,  each  dweller  is  to  the  other 

‘  As  the  harp  that  instinctively  sings. 

While  the  night-breathing  zephyr  soft  sighs  o’er  the  strings  ; 
Eesponds  to  each  impulse  with  ready  reply, 

Whether  sorrows  or  pleasures  her  sympathy  try ; 

And  tears  and  smiles  on  the  countenance  play 
Like  sunshine  and  showers  of  a  morning  in  May.’ 

“'Tire  scenes  of  to-day  are  like  an  oasis  in  life’s  pilgrimage,  where  divers 
meet  from  all  ways,  as  if  drawn  by  a  common  appetency.  And  who  will 
say  that  we  have  not  found  it  as  verdure  to  the  eye,  as  gladness  to  the  ear, 
as  refreshment  to  the  spirit  ?  So  we  have  seen  travelers  from  places  opposite 
and  far  removed,  meet  on  some  mountain’s  top,  and  as  they  gaze  on  the 
panorama  of  beauty  and  sublimity  around,  they  feel  a  common  impulse,  not 
to  say  a  common  inspiration  of  love  and  adoration.  As  we  sat  down  to 
the  bountiful  repast,  on  yonder  hill,  we  felt  not  only  the  wants  of  a 
common  nature,  but  the  commingling  of  brothers’  joys.  And  I  am  sure 
that  from  the  heart  of  one  whom  you  are  pleased  to  call  a  stranger,  ad- 


71 


mitted  by  your  kindness  among  you,  as  if  I  were  one  of  you,  there  goes  out 
with  yours  an  earnest  benison  upon  Appleton  Academy.  May  its  rich,  ripe 
future  be  beyond  the  ordinary  fulfillment  of  its  past  and  present  full  blos¬ 
soming  and  promise.  ’  ’ 

In  closing,  Mr.  Merrill  remarked,  that : 

The  exercises  of  the  day  had  been  so  rich  and  copious,  that  there  was 
very  little  left  to  be  said.  He  wished,  however,  to  refer  to  one  thing,  which 
otherwise  might  not  appear  upon  the  record.  The  Oration,  the  Poem,  the 
Chronicles,  and  the  Speeches,  when  published,  would  speak  for  themselves. 
But  the  excellent  dinner  which  had  been  provided,  was  in  some  danger  of 
being  overlooked  by  the  reporters,  who  were  a  set  of  men  supposed  to  have 
exclusive  literary  tastes.  He  said  it  had  been  his  fortune,  many  times  in  his 
life,  to  sit  down  to  public  dinners,  upon  similar  occasions;  but  his  fare  to-day 
had  exceeded  all  former  experience.  He  proposed  a  vote  of  thanks  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Fox,  for  the  skill  and  assiduity  with  which  they  had  provided  for 
the  inner  man  on  this  occasion. 

The  motion  was  unanimously  adopted. 

12.  The  Star-spangled  Banner:  May  it  Ever  Wave  over  the  Vmv'ED  States. 

Hon.  Hosea  Eaton,  of  New  Ipswich,  being  called  upon,  re¬ 
sponded,  substantially,  as  follows  : 

“The  principal,  the  heavy  work  of  this  gathering,  has  been  done,  and 
well  done,  and  hence  I  -will  not  detain  you  long.  When  I  say,  I  am  happy 
to  be  with  you  this  evening,  I  utter  but  old  and  familiar  language,  wholly 
unsuited  to  the  expression  of  the  feelings  which  this  occasion  inspires.  To 
come  together  as  we  have,  here,  to-day — to  look  old  school  acquaintances 
in  the  face — to  take  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  exchange  friendly  greet¬ 
ings,  kindles,  in  my  own  bosom,  a  commingling  of  peculiar  and  indescrib¬ 
able  feelings,  that  language  is  wholly  inadequate  to  express. 

“  Enhanced,  too,  by  the  manner  in  which  we  have  been  entertained  here, 
to-day,  first,  by  the  Orator,  whose  golden  words,  in  representing  the  True 
Hero,  must  have  kindled  the  flame  of  patriotism  in  every  heart ;  next,  by 
the  Poet,  who  possesses  the  power  of  saying  things  in  the  sharpest,  quickest 
way  ;  and  who,  after  interesting  and  delighting  us  by  his  good  hits,  closed 
with  a  feeling  tribute  to  the  Flag  of  our  Country  ;  and,  thirdly,  but  not 
least,  by  the  Chronicler,  who  plucked,  with  skillful  hand,  from  the  bough  of 
his  memory,  and  the  history  of  the  past,  those  little  incidents  of  school¬ 
boy  life,  and  pressed  them  into  the  cup  of  the  present,  all  purple  and  gush¬ 
ing.  As  we  quaffed  the  contents,  it  seemed  truly  like  draughts  nectar- 
sweet,  and  we  found  ourselves  carried  hack  and  living  aver  again  our  schoolboy 
days ;  and  I  doubt  not,  you,  Mr.  President,  will  lay  your  head  upon  your 


72 


pillow  to-night,  forty  or  sixty  years  younger  than  when  you  arose  this  morn¬ 
ing,  and  that  your  dreams  will  he  of  your  school-days. 

‘  ‘  However  agreeable  and  pleasant  it  would  he  to  speak  further  of  matters 
german  to  this  occasion,  I  must  forego  that  pleasure,  and  address  myself  to 
the  sentiment  to  which  I  am  to  respond :  ‘  The  Star-spangled  Banner.  ’ 
What  its  language — what  its  import — what  its  meaning?  It  possesses  a 
world  of  meaning ;  it  means,  our  Government,  ‘  fairest  the  sun  ever  shone 
upon,’  and  all  the  precious  institutions  and  liberties  that  we  enjoy,  both 
civil,  religious,  and  educational.  It  represents  the  Constitution — it  is  to  that 
treasured  instrument  we  owe  all  we  are  as  a  people  ;  it  has  aided  to  bring 
out  our  resources  in  agriculture,  manufactures,  and  commerce  ;  it  has  aided 
the  development  of  our  entire  character  as  a  nation  ;  under  it  have  risen 
statesmen,  military  and  naval  heroes,  such  as  the  world  has  never  seen  before  ; 
and  I  doubt  not  that  this  crisis  will  produce  heroes  and  statesmen  not  sur¬ 
passed  by  those  who  have  gone  before,  and  that  they  will  bear  the  flag  tri¬ 
umphantly  through  this  conflict — every  star  on  its  union  growing  brighter 
and  brighter,  till  one  universal,  joyous  shout  of  liberty  shall  go  up,  not  only 
from  the  free  North  and  the  great  West,  but  also  from  the  sunny  South — 
Every  man  must  he  free,  regardless  of  his  condition  or  complexion  !  whether  be¬ 
decked  with  the  roseate  hue  of  the  European,  or  .veiled  beneath  the  sable 
drapery  of  the  African  ;  and  I  will  now  make  another  declaration,  though 
I  am  not  going  to  make  a  political  speech — if  the  South  conquer  in  this  war, 
they  will  dictate  to  you  the  terms  of  peace — the  same  powers  that  destroy 
this  government  will  inaugurate  another  that  will  make  Slavery  universal.  Why, 
then,  should  not  we  take  as  bold  a  position,  and,  if  we  conquer  (as  I  doubt 
not  we  shall),  then  make  Freedmn  universal ! 

“  All  honor  to  the  gallant  Fremont  for  the  noble  position  he  has  taken ! 
His  course  has  shown  that  he  understands  not  only  the  nature  of  the  disease, 
but  the  o^ily  remedy  that  will  effect  o, permanent  cure. 

“  This  is  a  contest  of  Liberty  and  Slavery,  and  one  or  the  other  must  go 
down,  for  they  are  antagonistic  dements,  which  cannot  flourish  in  the  same  soil, 
or  exist  under  the  same  government.  The  nations  of  the  Old  World  have 
fallen  by  this  mighty  destroyer — historians  have  come  from  far  to  study 
their  overthrow,  but  returned  unsatisfied — they  fell  by  a  hand  imperceptible 
and  subtle. 

‘  As  the  stern  oak,  by  some  fair  streamlet’s  side, 

Waves  its  broad  arms,  extends  its  leafy  pride. 

Towers  from  the  earth  and  rearing  to  the  skies  : 

Its  conscious  strength  the  tempests’  wrath  defies ; 

Its  ample  branches  shield  the  fowls  of  air. 

To  its  cool  shade  the  panting  herds  repair ; 

But  alas !  the  treacherous  current  ivorks  its  noiseless  way, 

Its  fibres  loosen  and  the  roots  decay  ;  ’  * 

Till  in  ruins  lies  all. 

By  an  imperceptible  fall. 


73 


‘  ‘  Thus  ever  has  been  and  will  he  the  operation  of  Slavery  upon  human 
governments.  Slavery  and  Liberty  cannot  long  exist  under  this  government :  one  or 
the  other  must  come  to  an  end.  Slavery,  the  sole  cause  of  the  present  rebellion, 
rests  upon  the  ignorance  of  its  masses,  while  Liberty^  the  groundwork  of  loyalty^ 
depends  upon  the  intelligence  of  the  people  for  its  support. 

“Note  this  in  the  present  rebellion;  in  those  communities  and  States 
where  few  churches  and  school-houses  are  seen,  where  there  is  little  intelli¬ 
gence  and  education,  the  people  are  disloyal,  and  blindly  led  to  believe  that 
this  war  is  brought  on  by  the  Yankees,  while,  where  the  church-spire  and  insti¬ 
tutions  of  learning  are  seen  on  every  side,  where  education  and  literature 
have  reached  a  higher  point  of  success,  there  the  people  are  patriotic,  loyal 
and  ready  to  defend  the  ‘  Flag  of  our  Country,’  that  wherever  it  floats  it 
may  float  the  emblem  of  Freedom.’’ 

At  the  close  of  Mr.  Eaton’s  remarks,  the  band  played  the 
“  Star-spangled  Banner,”  and  the  audience  responded  with 
hearty  applause. 

13.  Yankee  School-Teachers  :  The  South  needs  them,  hut  donH  want  them. 

Martin  H.  Fisk,  Esq.,  of  Temple,  N.  H.  (lately  President 
of  Paducah  College,  in  Kentucky),  was  called  on  to  respond  : 

He  said  he  considered  himself  a  poor  representative  of  Yankee  School- 
Teachers,  but  he  was  far  from  being  ashamed  of  his  profession.  He  had  been 
in  Kentucky  teaching  for  several  years,  but  since  the  present  troubles  he 
had  been  obliged  to  leave,  because  he  was  a  Northern  man.  Educational 
matters  are  in  utter  confusion  at  the  South  at  the  present  time.  Nearly  all 
their  schools  have  stopped,  and  their  teachers — most  of  whom  were  Northern 
Yankees — have,  in  a  majority  of  cases,  been  driven  away.  Even  those  of 
them  who  professed  to  be  secessionists  were  suspected  of  being  abolitionists, 
and  advised  to  leave.  Such  was  now  the  deplorable  state  of  things  at  the 
South.  But  even  before  the  present  difficulties,  their  schools  could  not  be 
compared  with  ours.  The  remark  made  by  one  of  the  speakers  who  had 
preceded  him  was  emphatically  true — that  a  man  did  not  know  how  to  ap¬ 
preciate  New  England  schools  until  he  had  seen  the  condition  of  schools  else¬ 
where.  There  were  very  few  parts  of  the  South  where  common  schools  upon 
our  system  exist  at  all.  And  their  select  schools  and  colleges  were  greatly 
inferior  to  ours.  He  believed,  as  was  well  remarked  by  Mr.  Eaton,  that  one 
great  cause  of  the  present  rebellion  was  the  ignorance  of  the  common  people 
at  the  South.  They  scarcely  ever  read  or  think  for  themselves.  He  was 
acquainted  with  a  native  teacher  in  Kentucky  who  had  never  studied  gram¬ 
mar.  He  visited  his  school  one  day,  and  the  teacher  inquired  of  him  where 


74 


he  was  from.  He  replied  that  he  was  from  Hew  Hampshire.  “Is  that  in 
this  State?”  innocently  inquired  the  man,  evidently  thinking  that  Hew 
Hampshire  was  the  name  of  some  place  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  The 
speaker  also  related  a  number  of  incidents  to  show  the  present  distracted 
condition  of  things  in  Kentucky.  One  drunken  man  had  succeeded  in  kill¬ 
ing  two  Union  men  and  wounding  three  or  four  more  in  a  single  day.  There 
was  no  safety  there  for  any  one.  He  believed  that  many  of  the  disunionists 
were  honest  in  their  convictions,  but  dreadfully  deluded. 

He  had  heard  a  secession  sermon  preached  from  part  of  the  14th  verse  of 
the  4th  chapter  of  Hehemiah  :  “Be  not  ye  afraid  of  them  ;  remember  the 
Lord,  which  is  great  and  terrible,  and  fight  for  your  brethren,  your  sons,  and  your 
daughters,  your  wives,  and  your  houses.”  The  preacher  remarked  that  this  com¬ 
mand  was  given  to  the  Lews  to  fight  the  Northern  armies,  but  he  thought  it 
had  a  prophetic  view  to  themselves  in  their  present  oppressed  condition. 
Eeferring  to  Slavery,  he  said,  these  Horthern  Abolitionists,  for  the  last  thirty 
years,  had  been  continually  waging  a  war  against  the  most  noble  and  divine 
institution  ever  founded  on  the  Continent.  He  said  the  South  had  always  paid 
three-fourths  of  the  expense  of  the  Government,  while  the  Horth  had  had 
three-fourths  of  the  offices,  &c.  Addressing  the  soldiers,  he  told  them  they 
had  embarked  in  a  noble  cause,  and,  if  they  fell  on  the  battle-field,  they 
would  die  covered  all  over  with  glory ;  and  that  future  generations  would 
delight  to  honor  their  names.  He  pretended  to  give  some  twenty  reasons, 
besides  the  direct  command  of  the  Almighty,  why  they  ought  to  fight— all 
of  which  were  received  by  the  illiterate  crowd  as  Gospel  truth. 

Mr.  Fisk  said  it  was  his  privilege  to  receive  an  important  portion  of  his 
education  at  the  Hew  Ipswich  Appleton  Academy,  and  he  rejoiced  in  every 
indication  of  its  prosperity,  both,  present  and  prospective.  He  would 
close  his  remarks  with  the  following  sentiment : 

“  The  present  efficient  and  popular  Principal  of  this  Academy — may  he  ever  prove 
positive  for  good,  negative  for  evil,  and  continue,  as  he  has  long  done,  to 
shock  his  pupils  /  ’ 

Dea.  Gould,  upon  being  urgently  solicited  to  favor  the  audi¬ 
ence  with  a  song,  finally  responded  by  singing  the  following 
verse,  being  an  impromptu  paraphrase  of  an  Indian  war-song 
of  the  olden  time  : 

The  sun  sets  at  night  and  the  stars  shun  the  day. 

But  glory  remains  when  the  light  fades  away  ; 

Begin,  ye  proud  traitors,  your  threats  are  in  vain, 

For  the  sons  of  New  Hampshire  your  boastings  disdain  ! 


The  audience  were  pleased,  but  not  satisfied,  and  called  for 


75 


the  rest  of  the  song.  The  Deacon  said  the  whole  song  was 
very  long,  consisting  of  thirty-two  verses;  but  as  the  verses 
were  all  alike,  he  would  only  sing  the  last  one — which  he  ac¬ 
cordingly  did,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  assembly. 

This  closed  the  public  exercises  of  the  evening.  The  social 
intercourse  and  enjoyment,  enlivened  by  the  frequent  and  har¬ 
monious  music  of  the  Band,  continued,  however,  until  a  late 
hour;  and  the  company,  at  last,  reluctantly  broke  up,  feeling 
that  they  had  spent  a  day  crowded  with  entertainment  and 
pleasure. 

The  occasion  will  be  long  remembered,  by  the  Alumni  and 
friends  of  the  Academy,  as  one  of  the  happiest  of  their  lives. 
The  disturbed  financial  condition  of  the  country,  and  the  de¬ 
pression  in  business,  occasioned  by  the  war,  prevented  the 
Academy  from  reaping  that  pecuniary  advantage  from  the 
meeting,  in  the  shape  of  donations  to  its  funds,  which  in  other 
circumstances  might  have  been  realized.  But  the  Institution 
— thanks  to  the  generosity  of  its  friends — is  not  so  poor  as  it 
once  was,  and  it  can  well  afford  to  wait  the  triumph  of  its 
country’s  arms  for  the  liquidation  of  the  not  very  formidable 
fioating  debt  which  hangs  over  it,  and  for  the  desired  increase 
of  its  permanent  fund.  The  School  itself  was  never  more 
fiourishing  than  at  the  present  time,  and  its  prospects  never 
were  brighter.  Mr.  E.  T.  Quimby,  a  graduate  of  Dartmouth 
College,  who  has  been  the  Principal  for  the  last  ten  years,  and 
presided  over  its  interests  with  remarkable  energy,  popularity 
and  success,  still  remains  at  the  helm;  and  the  Trustees  feel 
confident  that  the  ship  will  continue  to  sail  on,  with  undimin¬ 
ished  prosperity,  while  it  remains  in  the  charge  of  so  com¬ 
petent  a  captain.  Notwithstanding  the  “  hard  times,”  the  num¬ 
bers  of  the  school  are  undiminished,  and  the  intelligent  and 
vivacious  appearance  of  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who 
are  so  fortunate  as  to  be  its  pupils,  was  the  subject  of  frequent 
remark  and  admiration  during  the  day. 

The  friends  of  this  Academy  suggest  that  the  “  Social  Re- 


70 


union”  of  its  Alumni  be  repeated  at  appropriate  intervals  in 
future  years ;  and  they  confidently  hope  and  believe  that,  as  the 
institution  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  kind  in  the  United  States, 
it  will  long  continue  to  be  one  of  the  best,  and  that  its  sons 
and  daughters  will  never  be  less  proud  than  to-day  to  own  it 
as  their  Alma  Mater  I 


■WHITTEMORE  HILL. 


